As the conversations continue, Argor eventually finds himself a proper moment to excuse himself, and then goes about casually from one member of the group to another, and tells them that he would like a word with them all, in private.
Once he has managed to gather them all together, conveniently enough in the secluded area on the deck near Cladissa, he says quietly, "It is painfully clear that this sort of endeavor is not something that the rest of you are well versed. In an effort to not make ourselves or the Society look foolish, I suggest the following course of action: Thrassk, myself, and Cladissa, despite her earlier faux pas, take the lead in any further interactions. Mr. Newblossom, accompany Cladissa here and lend her some aid, but ONLY if it seems she needs it. Otherwise, try to keep your ears open to nearby conversations and glean us some information to use on the others. Hrimnagel, your earlier social reconnaissance proved quite useful to Thrassk, continue to do so and slip some information along to whoever needs it the most. I shall attempt to smooth things over with Mr. Aldain at the first convenient moment. I believe I have made a good impression on the Blakros matriarch, and whatever Thrassk said to the councilman seems to have at least put him to thinking, so please try not to do anything that would negate our efforts there..."
Hrim targets Tancred Desmire but will take any other opportunity that he recognizes to discover useful information for his companions.
Cladissa nods in agreement, Argor's halfhanded confidence in her ability just enough to lift her spirits.
The damage already done, she decides to explore the ship before they arrive. She meanders around the deck, enjoying the music from the musicians on the forecastle, sampling the light hor de'oeuvres, and accepting a glass or two of bubbling wine.
She leans over a serving table of delightful-looking petit fours, wishing they would taste as good to her as they looked, when she feels someone brush against her tail.
She spins and sees Jeon Rang-Woo behind her. "Oh! Excuse me," She says as she grabs her wayward appendage and holds it close to her. She steps back. "I was just looking. I can't taste sweets anymore, so I have to admire their beauty."
A well-dressed Tian man in his early thirties, Raeng-Woo is easily recognized by his unkempt black hair and slightly dazed smile. He laughs, "What a terrible predicament!" Raeng-Woo eats a couple. "Not bad..." he says. "What a lovely dress you're wearing by the way. Do my eyes deceive me, or is that from Madame Wang's Silken Sensations in Goka?"
Hmm, obvious nystagmus in his eyes, Cladissa observes, but decided not to comment on it.
At his compliment, she lets go of her tail and spins to show her dress off. "Thank you. Actually, I got it from Maylinna's Klädeshandlaren, here in Absalom. It's possible that it's one of Madame Wangs, and Maylinna just did the alterations. Because of this," she swishes her tail back and forth. "I'm sure Madame Wang does not have my measurements."
Looking to change the subject and get him talking so she doesn't have to, she asks, "This is a lovely vessel. What sorts of ships do you use to travel to Tian Xia? Are they as grand as this?"
Hrim targets Tancred Desmire but will take any other opportunity that he recognizes to discover useful information for his companions.
Desimire is a middle-aged man with carefully trimmed black hair and a distinctly retreating hairline. The Chelish noble is dressed in fine black attire and looks on at all the activities around him in sinister amusement.
During the wedding, he is most easily placed off-balance by mentioning Paracountess Zarta Dralneen or his brother, Aglorn Desimire. Aglorn was a member of the Aspis Consortium, and was killed by a team of Pathfinders in the isolated demiplane contained within the HaoJin Tapestry. Tancred holds no ill will against the Pathfinder Society for his brother's death, believing Aglorn made his own bed by joining the unscrupulous Aspis Consortium.
He does, however, blame Dralneen, whose representatives among the Pathfinders left behind a token of the paracountess's ire. Furthermore, he believes that the Pathfinders planted a letter on Aglorn's body decrying the House of Thrune, and putting Tancred at risk of reprisal.
[dice=Heal]1d20+10
Hmm, obvious nystagmus in his eyes, Cladissa observes, but decided not to comment on it.
At his compliment, she lets go of her tail and spins to show her dress off. "Thank you. Actually, I got it from Maylinna's Klädeshandlaren, here in Absalom. It's possible that it's one of Madame Wangs, and Maylinna just did the alterations. Because of this," she swishes her tail back and forth. "I'm sure Madame Wang does not have my measurements."
Looking to change the subject and get him talking so she doesn't have to, she asks, "This is a lovely vessel. What sorts of ships do you use to travel to Tian Xia? Are they as grand as this?"
** spoiler omitted **
"Nahg...usually not. That takesh forever. I normally just get a teleport. Time ish money you know," he replies. "Michellia told me about you all rescuing her. You sound so brave...how do you do it? Face those monstersh I mean."
Cladissa smiles, eyes wide. "Well, when there's a worthwhile cause, it doesn't matter what you have to face." She leaves out the part that she wanted to break off the Accords because of the slaves that were shipped off to the shadow dimension year after year.
Realizing that may have sounded rather boastful, she quickly adds, "And having a couple strong orcs on your side is very helpful." She glances around the deck. "How about a drink? Is there something you'd recommend I try?"
She reaches up and tucks a few strands of hair behind her ear. What am I doing? her mind spins. Too many more and he's likely to pass out here against the railing. She keeps her smile plastered on her face.
Cladissa smiles, eyes wide. "Well, when there's a worthwhile cause, it doesn't matter what you have to face." She leaves out the part that she wanted to break off the Accords because of the slaves that were shipped off to the shadow dimension year after year.
Realizing that may have sounded rather boastful, she quickly adds, "And having a couple strong orcs on your side is very helpful." She glances around the deck. "How about a drink? Is there something you'd recommend I try?"
She reaches up and tucks a few strands of hair behind her ear. What am I doing? her mind spins. Too many more and he's likely to pass out here against the railing. She keeps her smile plastered on her face.
"This plum wine is lovely," Raeng-Woo replies. He shows her his crystal cup, which is full of syrupy looking purple liquid. "Or you could try some Tian white wine...but it's not sweet and lovely like your Avistani, it burns with manly fire. Only the brave and strong can manage it."
She looks into Raeng-Woo's eyes, trying to read them. Entirely unsure, she finds herself agreeing to his suggestion. "Well, I wouldn't be a brave Pathfinder if I didn't try something new," she says.
Oh, gods, am I flirting with him? The thought floats across her mind as she watches him pour the drinks. She shakes her head once to clear it when his back is turned, then fusses with her hair before accepting the drink.
She decides it's better to return to business and focus on her mission. "So... have you ever asked a Pathfinder to come to Tian Xia with you?"
That was not meant to come out that way.
"But bravery and strength are qualities that can be measured by various standards, are they not?" Argor says as he casually joins the conversation. "Qualities that I can personally attest that this woman has in limitless depths. She weathers hardships better than most men twice her size, and her skill with magic is impressive, though unorthodox. But who am I to speak on eccentricities of the use of magic, given my own recent discoveries. If bravery and strength are personality traits you are seeking in your friends, sir, then you have found the right person."
He then humbly bows and excuses himself from the conversation, moving over to,talk with a merchant lord by the opposite railing.
Cladissa stares after Argor, dumbstruck. She'd have been less surprised if Argor had appeared wearing pink and announcing he was going to be a bard.
Still, with effort she turns back to Raeng-Woo and tries to play it off. "Well, there you go."
She holds up the glass in a toast. "To bravery and strength."
She looks into Raeng-Woo's eyes, trying to read them. Entirely unsure, she finds herself agreeing to his suggestion. "Well, I wouldn't be a brave Pathfinder if I didn't try something new," she says.
Oh, gods, am I flirting with him? The thought floats across her mind as she watches him pour the drinks. She shakes her head once to clear it when his back is turned, then fusses with her hair before accepting the drink.
She decides it's better to return to business and focus on her mission. "So... have you ever asked a Pathfinder to come to Tian Xia with you?"
That was not meant to come out that way.
The liquid is clear, and smells awful. Raeng Woo smiles at Cladissa's question. "Raeng-Woo does not kiss and tell!" he replies. "干杯!" he continues, raising the small cup to clink against Cladissa's. After the clink, he downs it in one gulp.
Cladissa doesn't dare try to match this man drink for drink. She takes a swallow, but a small one, and tries not to grimace as the liquid burns down her throat. She stifles a cough as it takes her breath away.
She looks back to see him studying her reaction. She again paints the pleasant smile on her face which her tail writhes behind her.
"So tell me," she croaks, "has Michellia always had such a sunny disposition?"
Hrim manuevers around to speak to Argor and Cladissa. His shadows bumps them to stop and listen to his whisper of his small, thin voice becomes even harder to hear, "Tancred Desimire is ambitious to a fault, and while he has moved quickly up the ranks of the Thrune government's bureaucracy, he can be easily angered if reminded at how far he has left to climb. He probably is most easily placed off-balance by mentioning Paracountess Zarta Dralneen or her brother, Aglorn Desimire. Aglorn was a member of the Aspis Consortium, and was killed by a team of Pathfinders in the isolated demiplane contained within the HaoJin Tapestry. Tancred holds no ill will against the Pathfinder Society for his brother's death, believing Aglorn made his own bed by joining the unscrupulous Aspis Consortium. He does, however, blame Dralneen, whose representatives among the Pathfinders left behind a token of the paracountess's ire. Furthermore, he believes that the Pathfinders planted a letter on Aglorn's body decrying the House of Thrune, and putting Tancred at risk of reprisal."
Lastly, the deep gnome tells Argor that he has already told Cladissa and Cladissa that he will tell Argor, in case one of them has a better opportunity.
Seeing the two of them targeting Raeng Woo without his reconnaissance, he heads over to size up Rubaani Shafar.
Still berating himself inwardly for his failed attempt to back Cladissa up when she was talking to Nigel, the Transmogrifying Lotus lurks silently, listening as Cladissa befriends the clearly inebriated Raeng-Woo.
Nyugusk thinks of leaning in to inform her of Raeng-woo's condition but decides that she's probably already aware herself. Grasping for ways to be useful? Pathetic. You have a reasonable mind. Use it!
In frustration he walks off to find Thrassk, hoping that he might aid him in whatever course he's pursuing.
Cladissa doesn't dare try to match this man drink for drink. She takes a swallow, but a small one, and tries not to grimace as the liquid burns down her throat. She stifles a cough as it takes her breath away.
She looks back to see him studying her reaction. She again paints the pleasant smile on her face which her tail writhes behind her.
"So tell me," she croaks, "has Michellia always had such a sunny disposition?"
"Yeah I guess so. She usually lets Eleanir be the happy one. Might I ask, have you ever been to Goka?"
Cladissa lights up with genuine enthusiasm. "Goka? That's where the Lantern Lodge is located! I would dearly love to visit it some day. Have you seen it? It's a legendary Pathfinder lodge that's amazingly beautiful. My step-uncle was there and told me about it."
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As Argor's most recent conversation concludes, he makes his way over to the railing and leans against it, taking a deep breath of the sea air.
Strange, but one would think that living in a coastal city on an island that the smell of the ocean would become indiscernible, but out here in the middle of it all, it is hard to miss.
He stands there, looking about at the stars in the sky and their disjointed reflections on the ocean's surface for several minutes.
It is then, that he manages to catch wind of something else on the air, that seemed to have a hint of rotten egg. He glanced around casually, trying to catch a glimpse of what could be producing the strange fragrance, but just as soon as he noticed it, the scent was gone.
Odd. I wonder if Cladissa noticed that.
He turned from the railing and walked towards one of the servants boasting a tray of hors d'oeuvres and helped himself to a small plate of shrimp and cheeses.
As the hours whittled down, Argor continued to maneuver from one person to another, his main goal to learn what he could to help their endeavors with the Blakros', but his ulterior motive was to garner business deals and gather information in order to improve his own social standing and holdings.
Eventually, Argor makes his way to his designated cabin, a small, in-ornate affair that was likely a storage room when the vessel was being put to it's usual duties. Argor snarled his nose at the accommodations, but nevertheless made his way inside and closed the door. Arctyryx looked about and said, "Boss, if it's okay with you, I think I'm going to find me a spot in the rigging. This is just a touch too closed in for my tastes."
Argor simply nodded in reply and opened the door for the raven to return topside.
I suppose I should consider myself lucky. I doubt the others have decent quarters either, given the number of high society individuals present.
As the mage sat on the edge of the cot and began skimming his spellbook, the strange, sulfurous scent returned. He lifted his eyes and began surveying the room, but whatever was causing it was not visible to the human eye, nor did it retreat this time.
"Reveal yourself, whatever you are. It is rude to skulk about in the shadows," Argor said calmly.
After a few moments, a minuscule figure began to shimmer into view. It was clearly an imp, the creatures red scales, dark horns, wings, and barbed tail gave that away in an instant. Stranger than the sudden appearance of a denizen of the lower planes aboard this vessel, however, was the fact that it was wearing what, in comparison, was finely made clothing, clearly tailored to his small stature.
The creature sat cross legged opposite the wizard, a small but wide, toothy grin on its face. "I should have known I couldn't hide from you for long. Apologies for the crude nature of my intrusion, but I..."
Argor holds up a single finger, to which the imp silences itself immediately. "I know what you are, and I know what you and your kind do. Know that I am not interested in any sort of arrangement with any creature from your realm, as not only am I particularly attached to my soul, but, in the grand scheme of things, I have no intention of parting with it. EVER. So, choose your next words carefully, imp, lest I become tempted to give you a painful return to your home plane."
The imp held up its hands in a placating gesture. "Whoa whoa whoa, easy there friend. I realize that I may have startled you with my sudden appearance, but I give you my word that I am not here to try to cause you any physical grief. And, if you know my kind as you claim, you know that we are good on our word," it slowly stands up from the small desk as it speaks. It turns and faces Argor, continuing, "Allow me to properly introduce myself. My name is Rutai," he says with a bow. "And before you ask, no, that is not my True Name. Most mortals always assume as such, but I know you are smarter than that. Anyway, I have come a long way to find you, to deliver some unpleasant news..."
Argor quirks an eyebrow at the creature, waiting for it to get to the point.
Rutai clears his throat into his fist, adding "Well, you see, it has fallen to me to unhappily report that your master, Strathix, has died. Bested by a dragon, I'm afraid."
Argor quietly closed his book and said nothing for a moment, as Rutai continued. "He and the crew he had fallen in with had gotten rumor of a dragon hoard nearby that was reportedly unattended. Strathix advised against it, but eventually, proof continued to mount that the dragon had in fact perished, and he agreed to join them on the expedition. Sure enough, they found it, and it wasn't guarded! But before they could gather it all and retreat, another dragon came in behind them, cutting off their escape, and annihilated them all. I barely got out of their with my scales not melted off!"
Argor absorbed the information, and then asked flatly, "And why were you there?"
Rutai looked at the mage confused, "Why? Because I was Strathix's familiar, that's why!"
Argor scoffed, "Strathix had no familiar. You should weave your lies better, devil."
Rutai held up a hand, "It's true! I swear! He summoned me into his service about two years after he left Absalom, or so I've estimated from talking to him. He often mentioned his young apprentice/son in Absalom, and with him dead and gone, I decided to track you down and let you know."
Argor glared at him with an appraising eye. It would make sense, Strathix being of Cheliax. It wasn't uncommon to see wizards and powerful nobles of Cheliax to have imps bound to their service. He just couldn't wrap his mind around the fact that Strathix had perished. He was a powerful wizard, but if anything was capable of dispatching him, a dragon would be one of them.
Argor sat quietly for a few more moments, Rutai standing about nervously before him as the silence grew. Soon, Argor spoke up, "I don't suppose you managed to acquire his spellbooks, by chance?"
Rutai half-laughed, but stopped the moment he saw the stern look cast his way from Argor. "Unfortunately not. The dragon's wrath was quite...comprehensive."
Argor sighed, "Oh well. You have delivered your message, you may go now."
"Ummm, well, perhaps there is something I can do for you?" Rutai asked.
"I already have the service of a familiar."
Rutai snickered, "If you can call it that. But what I mean is, perhaps there are some things I could do for you that it cannot. An odd task here or there, perhaps?"
Argor turned and regarded the imp seriously once again, "Why are you so eager to serve me, devil?"
Rutai kicked a clawed foot at the dust on the desk, "Well, I am not that eager to return to my plane. Some other devil would just send me about on some menial task, try and get me to do whatever b%*!#$#@ he could come up with at the moment. Strathix always treated me with respect, at least. I was hoping that perhaps we could come into some sort of mutual agreement as well."
Argor considered Rutai's words for several minutes, before saying, "Perhaps. If you have been following me for very long, you know about who I am associates with."
"Yeah! Freaky looking bunch you run with, to say the least!" Rutai said excitedly.
"It turns out, we are currently on a delicate mission for the Society, trying to win over the favor of the Blakros' family. They are ill-suited to the task. If you are so eager to prove your loyalty and intentions to me, then do me the favor of gathering what information you can on those gathered here and passing it along to me so that I can in turn pass it along to them. If you do this well, perhaps we can discuss further business dealings later," Argor replied.
Rutai beamed with delight, and gave the wizard a salute, "You got it. Who in particular are you wanting information on?"
Argor then filled the devil in on what they had learned so far, as well as who the various guests of interest were, before returning to his studies.
Rutai vanished from sight and excused himself from the room. Excellent. This is going exactly as the boss had predicted...
__________
Nigel - Influence: 0/3, Secret: Unknown
A tall, thin elf with long, dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, wearing fine clothes and silver-rimmed spectacles Nigel looks the part of an academic dandy. While he fidgets with his glasses when involved in conversations (he prefers books), one hand always calmly holds a glass of wine.
Alexander Bedard - Influence: 1/2, Secret: Formerly courted Michellia
Bedard has a muscular build, the remnants of his early life as a dockworker in Augustana, and despite his short stature, he's an imposing presence in any crowd. As a member of the People's Council, Bedard dresses in the finest of tailored garments and wears navy blue for the festivities to show his patriotism. No matter how much he grooms, however, the politician has a permanent shadow of stubble on his chin, giving him a rugged and somewhat dangerous demeanor.
Hamaria Blakros - Influence: 1/3, Secret: Uknown
Hamaria Blakros is an elegantly dressed woman of middle age, with olive skin and long, straight black hair. For the wedding she is dressed in a formal crushed velvet dress that accentuates her form without showing being inappropriately revealing. Her piercing gaze moves about as she keeps tabs on all her guests-whether to ensure no one has an empty goblet or for some other, more politically motivated reason, she gives no indication.
Jeon Raeng-Woo - Influence 0/2, Secret - He's a drunk.
A well-dressed Tian man in his early thirties, Raeng-Woo is easily recognized by his unkempt black hair and slightly dazed smile.
After arriving on the island, the guests are ushered off the boat onto the pier . This long stone pier stretches out into the deep waters of the island's eastern shore. At capacity, the docks can moor three deepwater vessels. A series of small wooden docks surround the pier, allowing launches from any additional ships anchored offshore to embark and disembark at ease. 10 mercenaries patrol the pier and surrounding docks.
The guests are directed along the path toward the pavilion tent that will serve as the venue for the Blakroses' welcoming festivities.
A large canvas pavilion has been erected near the center of the island, surrounded by several smaller tents serving as kitchens and staging areas for the Blakroses' staff. Easily accessible from the pier, Chapel Bluff, and the guest accommodations, a cleared path stretches from the pavilion to the north and south. Tables and chairs of fine quality are arranged inside the large tent, giving guests plenty of room to move around. Musicians play music in the background to keep the guests entertained, while servants deliver a seemingly endless procession of food and drink.
Argor takes in the sight of the festival grounds. He makes his way towards Hamaria, and when an opportunity presents itself, says, "M'lady, I do not believe anyone else in the Inner Sea could organize a more impressive gala."
Later, Argor makes it a point to find Nigel, and once he can find an opportunity to speak to the man privately, apologizes for the group's earlier social faux pas, "I hope you do not let my uncouth associates hamper your opinion of us or the Society. We have had such a fortunate arrangement thus far, wouldn't you agree?"
Cladissa's conversation with Raeng-Woo ends when the island comes into view and the excitement on the ship overrides mundane issues. She curtsies and excuses herself, leaving the rest of the drink discreetly untouched.
When she moves by her companions, she informs them under her breath, "Raeng-Woo is polite enough, but he is well into his cups. At least he's pleasant and not belligerent when drunk."
She disembarks, gawking at the festivities. She's still somewhat rattled by Argor's strange compliment, and every so often steals a glance in his direction as he works the crowd. Her ears twitch as he seems to effortlessly navigate the social setting, as if there were some formula for it that he'd mastered.
She turns from the gaggle of lords that he was entertaining, not wanting to intrude, when she sees Alexander Bedard coming from the other direction. "Hello, good sir," she says in greeting.
"A pleasant day for a wedding, even though, um, considering the circumstances... Um," she takes a step back, not exactly knowing where to go with this.
"Good day." She retreats from that encounter.
Cladissa steps away from the crowds and wanders about the grounds, avoiding people for a good while. She stares at the gardens and the immaculately-tended plants, wishing she could slink away into the undergrowth.
There wasn't much to speak of; instead of wild plants there was trimmed and sculpted hedges and shrubs. She could smell the hands of people on them, turning them from wild growth to domesticated fixtures. She wended her way through the paths, aware of sounds of the nearby party but wanting no part of it. Instead, she fought the urge to drop to all fours and skulk about in the densest part of the garden. There's no prey, she told herself.
After at least an hour of wandering about, she returns to the party, reminding herself of her mission. She looks about, hoping to find someone who would be willing to speak with her.
She again catches sight of Argor, this time speaking with Nigel. Memory of her earlier faux pas hits her and she avoids them both. Instead, she looks around and spots -- plus smells -- Raeng-Woo. "I believe we were discussing Goka," she begins when she approaches the trader. "The, um, Pathfinder lodge there? Had you ever seen it?"
"Because that is someplace I would like to go, you know." She coughs slightly, then shakes her head. "Well, on my own, of course. Or maybe the Pathfinders would send me one of these days."
Defeated, she wanders off again to fight off her dark, unpleasant thoughts.
and the unguarded surroundings.
and he fears for his tenure as museum curator. Bringing this topic up puts Nigel on edge, causing him to lose his calculating conversational style and pompous airs.
Noticing Hamaria's anxious glances at the guards and security, Argor glances about himself at the surroundings in an effort to hide his smile at noting the weakness in the Lady's social armor. He composes himself quickly enough, before stepping close enough so that only she could hear, "M'lady, trust that should anything go awry during the festivities, my associates and I will make it our personal endeavor to try to protect you and your family."
__________
After speaking some with Nigel, Argor spots Cladissa withdraw within herself as she usually does when under stress, and politely excuses himself from his conversation with the curator.
He quietly floats but an inch off the ground and comes up behind the felinous lady, where he puts a casual hand on her shoulder as he steps close, "What is going on, Cladissa. Something is clouding your mind, I can see it, as can everyone else, though they may not have the insight I have on the matter."
Cladissa could smell Argor's approach, but when he placed his hand on her shoulder she flinches with a hiss. She spins and takes a couple steps back, tail twitching wildly. "What's that supposed to mean?" She looks him up and down. "And use your legs! They'll atrophy if you don't walk from time to time."
In an instant her shoulders slump and she hangs her head. "I'm sorry. I don't want to fight. Just, go. I'll try to stay out of everyone's way."
Seeing Cladissa's aborted attempt to treat with Raeng-Woo, Nyugusk tell himself: Settle down now! This is just conversation. Would Irori shirk from this?
Willing his grimmace into a smile, the Transmogrified Lotus drops in right where Cladissa left off. "Goka, eh?!" He puts an arm on the Tian man's shoulder. "I went there once, on my very first mission with the Pathfinders."
Raising his glass, he guffaws, "Can't say I remember too much of it though, if you know what I mean?", and takes an exaggerated drink.
"Howabout you? Where else have you been? You look like quite the traveler. I love to travel myself--it's a perk of life in the Pathfinder Society--but I gather you have plenty a tale you could share of far off lands. The Mwangi Expanse? Jalmarey? Kyonin or the Five Kings Mountains? There are just so many places to experience!"
Argor coughs, looks around to make sure nobody had seen her outburst, then says quietly and calmly to her, "You see, that isn't going to be able to be an option, for you. We are on an island, at a social gathering where every action or inaction we take is being critiqued. And that critique will be exactly how the Society rates our success here."
He lands, at her request, and folds his arms behind him in his typical posture. "I do not wish to fight, either. I had hoped that my moving out would put everyone's dislike of me behind them, but clearly that is not the case. Nevertheless, I do not wish any hardship upon you or the others, and I know this is a stressful situation for you all. Which is why I am offering you a willing ear to listen, should you need to get something off of your chest. Primarily out of friendship, but also so that it would help you to hopefully focus on our task at hand."
Cladissa's head starts to hurt. She rubs her temple as she regards the wizard. "Friendship? Really? Do you think I'd trust you at this point?"
She groans, then studies her hands. Her claws flex and then retract once, then she hugs her shoulders while she looks longingly at the densest part of the garden. "Gods, this is not the time or the place for this," she mutters.
She turns back to Argor. "Maybe I can do other things to help, but right now I'm not any good talking with people. That probably includes you."
Argor shrugs, "Very well. If you change your mind and wish to speak later, then by all means, ask me to step aside and I will join you as soon as it is socially acceptable."
As he begins to walk away, he pauses and turns over his shoulder, adding "For the record, I have enlisted some extra-planar aid for our goal here. Throughout the festivities, should something invisible come along and slip you some information, do not think it odd. That is my assistant in this mission."
Without another word, he slowly walks away and back towards the heart of the party, seeking out the others one by one and informing them of his invisible associate.
After watching Hamaria's furtive glances at the guards and the unguarded surroundings, Hrim glides up to her in his shadowy form while she stands alone. In his small, thin voice he says, "the Pathfinder Society has protected the Blakros family as we protect our own... with immediate violence, long memories, and vengeance." Then, he drifts away letting her unsuccessfully search for him.
A tall and muscular Garundi woman, Rubaani looks out of place in her ceremonial half-plate armor. A scar covers the right side of Rubaani's face, the result of a manticore loosing a tail shard against her.
An eternal warrior, Rubaani is a fish out of water during the wedding. She does her best to remain on the periphery of the crowd, watching her subordinates and keeping her own keen eye on the Blakros family and their guests. She stares unemotionally at Cladissa when the Pathfinder comes near her.
Cladissa nearly retreats from the severe stare of Rubaani Shafar, but she recognises something in the constant readiness of the woman.
She tests the air with her keen scent, searching for anything out of the ordinary. Although Cladissa thinks she can detect the faint presence of brimstone, she otherwise senses no threats,
"I appreciate your diligence," she begins. "Even though I was made to leave my weapons behind, I believe I have skills that can be of assistance should they be needed. I'm a Pathfinder, you know. I'm even part of the group that broke the Penumbral Accords and rescued Michellia from the Plane of Shadow."
Cladissa withdraws from the stony silence. "Another time, perhaps," she says softly while padding lightly away.
She prowls around the grounds a bit, finding that most everyone have paired off or found groups of conversation that left her mostly alone. She takes a glass of sparkling water and sips lightly while making a show of studying the various artwork on display in the garden to appear busy and not feel so out-of-place.
When Argor floats by, she shrugs helplessly at his disapproving look. "I think this statue is responding more favorably to me than anyone else here," she spits in frustration. She shakes her head and says before he's able to respond, "I think Shafar -- that lady in the ceremonial armor -- might be interested in tales of our battles. Since you've chronicled them, you might have a better chance of catching her interest."
Argor pauses and drops the few inches between his feet and the ground when Cladissa finally offers a comparatively civil sentence his way. He looks over his shoulder at the stoic woman in question, then looks back to Cladissa and replies, "It is true, she may have interest in our tales. But if she has happened to have read any of the Chronicles I have transcribed, she may be more interested in the perspective of someone new. Give her some time, see if she shows interest in hearing more."
Cladissa nearly retreats from the severe stare of Rubaani Shafar, but she recognises something in the constant readiness of the woman.
She tests the air with her keen scent, searching for anything out of the ordinary. Although Cladissa thinks she can detect the faint presence of brimstone, she otherwise senses no threats,
"I appreciate your diligence," she begins. "Even though I was made to leave my weapons behind, I believe I have skills that can be of assistance should they be needed. I'm a Pathfinder, you know. I'm even part of the group that broke the Penumbral Accords and rescued Michellia from the Plane of Shadow."
Rubaani squints for a moment at Cladissa, then she grunts and nods. "Good to know," she comments before returning to her vigil and ignoring the cat woman.
Cladissa withdraws from the stony silence. "Another time, perhaps," she says softly while padding lightly away.
She prowls around the grounds a bit, finding that most everyone have paired off or found groups of conversation that left her mostly alone. She takes a glass of sparkling water and sips lightly while making a show of studying the various artwork on display in the garden to appear busy and not feel so out-of-place.
When Argor floats by, she shrugs helplessly at his disapproving look. "I think this statue is responding more favorably to me than anyone else here," she spits in frustration. She shakes her head and says before he's able to respond, "I think Shafar -- that lady in the ceremonial armor -- might be interested in tales of our battles. Since you've chronicled them, you might have a better chance of catching her interest."
Thrassk smiles. "I too love tales of battle. Perhaps she will react better to a fellow warrior," Thrassk suggests. He makes his way over to the Garundi woman, and begins retelling the tale of their adventure to the Kortos Mounts where they took on the drow cultists of Abraxses.
Rubaani looks impressed and more than a little scared by the time Thrassk finishes his tale. She smiles politely through her worry, and quickly strides away from the dragon man. He comes back to his friends. "I think Ms. Shafar knows that we're more trouble than she can handle now. She should give us plenty of professional distance."
Suddenly the musicians stop playing, just as the sun is beginning to set over the Inner Sea. Hamaria makes her way to the stage. She declares the evening festivities at an end, thanking her guests for attending and promising even greater revels the following morning.
With the welcome festivities finished, the Pathfinders are directed
by Blakros mercenaries to their temporary lodgings for the weekend . Before they get settled in for the night, they are visited by Trade Prince Aaqir al'Hakam.
"Good evening. I am Aaqir al'Hakam," the man says with a slight bow of his head.
He lives in one of his cousin Lady Nymara's many estates in the city—specifically the Merchants' Quarter—with his longtime partner Emir Thalzar Gaatan and their three adopted daughters.
Nigel - Influence: 1/3, Secret:Drama with family.
Alexander Bedard - Influence: 1/2, Secret: Formerly courted Michellia
Hamaria Blakros - Influence: 3/3, Secret: Fears an attack
Jeon Raeng-Woo - Influence 1/2, Secret: He's a drunk.
Rubaani Shafar - Influence 2/2, Secret: Enjoys tales of battle.
Tancred Desimire - Influence 0/3, Secret: ?
The Trade-Prince smiles. "I knew that you were in well with the Blakros's, but you all seem to have Hamaria and Rubaani in your pockets...Impressive. It's good to know that our agents are skilled in both battlefield and social negotiations."
The man steeples his fingers in front of his chest, still smirking. "I just wanted to say that you seem to be doing well so far," he continues. "I would focus your efforts on the curator, the Andoran, and the Chelaxian Desimire tomorrow. We want the Society's influence spread as far as possible, eggs in one basket and all that..." The trade prince walks around the group, examining their mutant features openly. "Amazing!" he says. "Anyway, I won't take any more of your time. Good night, until we meet again." The prince offers a final smile and then goes to his own tent.
If all seems well, she'll clear her throat politely to get his attention.
He doesn't seem to notice her clearing her throat politely.
Cladissa scratches lightly at Nyugusk's tent. "Nyug! I need to check your wares, to see if there's anything we can do for Raeng-Woo. He overdid it tonight, so something that might dull the pain and help with the sickness could be a godsend."
She picks over the half-orc's alchemical supplies and with his permission tries brewing a concoction that might ease his hangover.