Dotting.
Lurking Dot.
>.>
<.<
Your conversation is interrupted by a clerk who lets you know that you are to be met with post haste. You are brought into an office where
Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin is seated behind his large and meticulously arranged desk, and he is not alone. At his side behind the desk stands the smirking, mustachioed likeness of Guaril Karela. Ambrus gestures to the chairs set forth before the desk, then begins his briefing. “Some of you may not be acquainted with Mr. Karela. He’s an ally of the Society and he’s provided the Decemvirate pertinent information concerning this situation. I’ve invited him to participate in your briefing. Please extend to him every courtesy.” Ambrus nods at Guaril to take the lead. Guaril preens at the recognition and sets aside his dockside slang. He nods towards Erin. “By way of my own resources, it’s come to my attention there’s an individual looking for a buyer for a collection of valuable lore. These are legends—researched, annotated, and correlated with allegedly verifiable sources and maps. This poor, unfortunate soul has gotten himself in over his head with the loan sharks, and he’s seeking to liquidate his assets before he finds himself liquidated—if you follow me.” Guaril grins toothily before sobering. “Cap’n Vaslin and I have arranged a meeting with him. We’ve let him think he’s getting paid on the spot, but that’s just to ensure that he actually shows up. He needs that money. But the Pathfinder Society doesn’t survive by trust alone. You’re going to need to talk him into coming to a safe house while we authenticate his collection and verify it’s worth the gold we’ve promised him. It’s the best offer he’s going to get without also eating his own entrails, because the Aspis Consortium has no reason to look out for a man with a price on his head. This is not a complex job. No deep politics, planar gallivantin’, or diggin’ fleas out of your trousers. Nevertheless, this collection could spur many more meaningful missions to come. Good coin and uh—lost secrets and such—” “Exactly,” Ambrus Vaslin interjects. “I’m already aware Grandmaster Torch thinks this is beneath your station. What he needs to understand is that the Ten view any success as a victory, especially if it opens up more leads for the entire Society. This individual, by the name of Syrdathiel, is an elf with expensive tastes. He wants to meet somewhere he feels safe. The Golden Serpent is a high-class restaurant in the Ivy District. That quarter of the city is routinely patrolled by its own paid mercenary force and the volunteer efforts of an order of paladins. Security shouldn’t be a problem, but by selecting you we’re leaving nothing to chance. Just persuade him to come in for the night, and in the morning he can walk out with cash in hand to settle his problems. If all goes well, you can be in soft beds before the night is over. There’s no travel expenses required here, but the Society is glad to reimburse you for dinner. I’ve eaten there myself; the menu is impeccable. Any questions?” You can see Guaril running his hand through his greasy hair as he awaits your inquiries.
"It is my dear boy just like you." Guaril replies to the young Shoanti.
"You did and I'm impressed."
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Erin gives a slight nod of acknowledgement to Guaril during his conversation, and waits until the conclusion of the briefing to speak.
"This Syrdathiel, does he have any ties we should know about? And whom does he owe money to? We are very likely to encounter both sides in the near future, and I would like to know more about them if possible."
She asks in a somber tone.
"We don't know. Some unsavory people I assume. We do not know of anyone he has ties to either. You will have to find out on your own." Ambrus answers.
"Yes. If you'd like to purchase some proper dinner attire, you have some time to do so. The fare is what you would think in a fine dining establishment. Small but the presentation is amazing." Ambrus sighs at Kulik's question. "Yes, he is an elf. I cannot imagine why he would not like you.." He says with a hint of sarcasm.
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Tanrov is a Shoanti young warrior originally from the Velashu Uplands. Despite being a sparse 20 years of age, Tanrov is already a towering specimen, nearing seven feet tall. Gifted with the burly muscular physique of a people that are bred for war, the young Shoanti is the spitting image of the strapping warrior. Unlike his more seasoned kin, his dusky skin is bereft of any elaborate tattoowork and a mop of tawny hair sits on top of his head.
He's currently clad in a suit of fine iron plate with a strikingly detailed image of a bucking bull aurochs embossed on its chestpiece. Hanging from his back, attached by a harness worn on around his broad torso, is a massive earthbreaker-hammer. A series of hide pouches of assorted sizes hang from a thick fighting girdle around his waist.
"Dinner attire..." Tanrov says in uncomfortably.
"Maybe one of us should wait outside with the mounts."
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A towering half-orc, nearly a head taller than most humans, KULIK has white, spiky hair shorn closely and green eyes. He wears a silvery chain shirt which bears small fragments of several other wild beasts dangling about it — "trinkets", he calls them. Strapped across his back are an ornate longbow and a greataxe with a blade of black metal. A close look reveals a delicate butterfly tattoo on his right palm.
His manner seems uncertain and his speech slow and deliberate, but his soft eyes also display fierce determination when the need arises.
Formal?
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"Formal wear, deceit, and treachery in another upscale environment?"
Erin asks, with slight irritation in her voice.
"Wonderful, I will see if I can get all the Ulfen blood out of that dress I wore to that wedding. You do not plan on sending any Taldans with us I hope. That last one was quite insufferable, even in his own natural habitat."
She continues on sarcastically.
"No I do not think so. Though we are aware of Rosham's 'quirks'."
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"I'm sure you simply met a portion of the unsavory nobility. There's many different kind of people of all walks of life," she addresses Kulik. Then to the group, she continues. "In fact, for those of you who find yourselves uncomfortable in formal-ware, I recommend a seller in the temple of Abadar whose received a shipment of items in which you may be interested."
"Well since there seem to be no more questions, you should go. Now scram!" Guaril dismisses the lot of you. Being in Absalom, it is not difficult to find the items you seek to purchase. Amira can tell you that the Golden Serpent is in the Ivy District. It is actually under new management and the current owner is a young noble woman by the name of Sendeli Foxglove. Not much is known about her except that she is not a native to Absalom and she bought the restaurant with the bulk of some personal inheritance.
The Golden Serpent is a sizeable, well-lit establishment with a raised stage occupying the center of its common room, a roaring fireplace on the south wall, and a long bar along the north. An elevated row of tables overlooks the main floor on the room’s western edge. The mood is subdued, but very few pause to take any notice of new arrivals. Over a dozen wide round tables fill the room, most packed with customers; one table is conspicuously empty.
It is quite obvious to the four of you that there is tension here, but it is being held back though you can't figure out why. No one pays you any attention as you take your seats at the empty table. Before long, you are joined by an elven man holding a leather folio tied shut with leather straps. "Hail and well met. I am Syrdathiel." He says as he sets it down on the table before taking a seat.
"Of course. I know you lot are very busy, so I was hoping to finish this transaction here and sooner rather than later. I also have other things to do with my time."
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"Unfortunately, my superiors have informed me that your payment will only be received within a safe location. I assure you on both my honor and my faith that this is a fully legitimate claim, Amira states as she rests her Abadar-cufflink-adorned sleeves on the table. "I apologize on behalf of my superiors for the inconvenience this may cause for you, but I can assure you that meeting at the Grand Lodge is the best course of action."
"Oh no, that will not do. I have places to go, people to see. Is there anyway I can change your mind? My time is worth more than say a nice 10% discount? That is a good deal I assure you." It is obvious he does not want to want go with you.
"No, I must insist we take care of this post haste." At this point, what looks to be a waitress comes by to take your order. "Hello, my name is Sendeli. I am the owner here and I will be taking your order. Have you had a look at our drink menu?" She hands it to Amira who notices that:
1) Red Wines are 50% off.
2) There is a note clipped to the inside.
That is not the elf you’re here to meet! Someone else got here first and took the other elf and left, along with whatever else it is you hoped to obtain. These bastards have taken everyone hostage in order to fleece you Pathfinders; and once they get you out of here, they plan on robbing everyone in my restaurant.
There’s one by the door and another one up above. They claim they’ll burn the place down if we warn you. For the love of everything decent—help us! Even if you leave, I know many of these people are going to die!
Sendeli Foxglove
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"Look Syrdathiel, your time is ticking. You are worth something to the society, so they will put forth great effort to keep you alive."
Erin states bluntly, gesturing to at Kulik and Tanrov.
"If that is not enough to sway you to head out with us, then take it from someone who is currently hunted by some dangerous people and still lives to bring the proposition to you."
She finishes with a steely gaze.
Apparently immediately distracted by the waitress approaching, she quickly snaps her attention to Amira and asks.
"Do they have any rare Chelish red? I did not get to enjoy much at the wedding due to that fiasco."
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Erin snatches the menu off Amira and begins to look down the drink list. The look on her face goes from crestfallen, to anger as she speaks sharply to Sendeli.
"You are the owner of this establishment? This is outrageous! How can you call yourself fine, high class dining when you do not even carry any fine red wines. By Cayden, all you have is this discount garbage!"
When she tries to respond, Erin slams the menu down haughtily on the table and then storms toward the door. She then turns back and yells.
"This place is a joke, you will not be getting a single copper of mine!"
"Wow, what a b~#*&. Maybe we can reach a compromise? Half of the money up front and the then rest when we get your meeting location?" The elven man smirks. Sendeli is flabberghasted by the reaction.
He's awfully anxious and is too eager to get this over with. You don't think this is the real Syrdathiel.
Oh, that'll teach me to not read the handout myself. :) Yes you believe he is sitting at the table right next to the door.[/ooc]
"Well that is a shame. I was hoping to just get the money. Now I'm gonna have to make an example of you. Crowsworn! Take flight!" He yells as he backs away from the flipped table and draws his weapons. The other patrons hide under their tables. Two of them do not and instead draw rapiers, one hidden under his table and the other grabs it from under a nearby rug.