You are all seated in the main hall of the Grand Lodge of Absalom, waiting for the arrival of Absalom's newest venture captain, a tall, dark-haired and olive-skinned Varisian woman named Eliza Petulengro.
Renowned for her composure under pressure and the author of more than two dozen Pathfinder Chronicles entries, she appears in the hall suddenly, a stack of chronicles in her arms, and looks you over for the barest of moments before getting right to the point.
"My greatest pupil, Pathfinder Bodriggan Wuthers, has gone missing. He followed a cleric contact back to Wuthers's home city of Oppara to work on a massive dig beneath the House of the Immortal Son, Oppara's famed opera house and once temple to the dead god, Aroden."
Eliza sighs and a distant look forms in her eyes.
"That was a year ago. He sent monthly reports, hoping to see their publication in a chronicle, before all contact dried up a few months back. I'm worried something has gone wrong, and the Society has a vested interest in the artifact he was researching and seeking."
With that, Eliza takes a few steps to the window and her sets her gaze upon the ships in the docks off in the distance.
"We want you to travel to Oppara and find Wuthers. We'd like to know exactly what he was seeking, too, since he neglected to inform us through his monthly correspondence. He hinted only that the cleric of Irori he was working with told him the object was the world's greatest 'living' artifact - whatever that means."
Bringing her attention back into the room, Eliza takes a few steps over to a desk and takes a seat before folding her hands and leaning forward slightly.
"I have a few tidbits of information to pass to you before you go: the House of the Immortal Son is nearly impossible to access. It took Wuthers months and countless bribes to get where he did. For you, I have a much simpler idea. Go to an opera, wait for an opportunity, and then exploit it to find Wuthers and his dig site."
"Be sure to wear something festive - the Taldan nobility are arrogant on their best days and if you arrive at the opera dressed like that.."
She waves her hand at you, gesturing as if she's holding something and then suddenly drops it, her fingers dancing for a moment in the open air.
"They’ll surely lose your tickets or regret to inform you that the opera house is oversold."
With a final nod, she reinforces your assignment once more.
"Go now to Oppara and report back to me directly upon your return here to Absalom."
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A massive man stands uneasily at the back of the room. He is well over six foot tall, but slim with not an ounce of fat upon him. His beard is thin, and unkempt. Around his neck he wears an odd necklace of twisted hair and stone. He smells as if he has not bathed since he was last out in the rain.
He points to the axe almost as big as himself. "I don't suppose axes constitute part of the formal Opera dress code?"
His voice is heavily accented (those who speak Kellish will guess that is his nature language). If anything the smell gets worse as he speaks. It would seem he is keen on a more pungent variety of fish.
As an afterthought he adds "I am Iso Soturi." looking around the room he adds. "And I will keep you safe. Maybe they allow bodyguards into the Opera."
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Race Draxus, not as handsome as most of his kin, yet still possessing an other-worldliness, leans back in his chair, taking it all in. At the suggestion of taking in an opera, he asks, "Is it normal for opera-goers to arrive armed and armoured, or should we plan a way to get out gear inside undetected?"
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Fronar is a shorter, blond haired, young, human who most people seem to "like" immediately, either from his natural charisma, the almost ever present grin, or his joyful demeanor and wit. Fronar exudes an awkward properness that comes from someone who obviously is not familiar with high society, but tries to act like he wasn't born into poverty, which probably adds to his charm to those not offended by his "act".
"Lady Petulengro." Fronar bows politely. "Thank you for the opportunity to join these fellow adventurers. I must admit, fine fashion has never been my strong suit. Would the lodge be able to provide us with a suitable wardrobe for an event such as an opera? I seem to have left my finest garments at a tailor's shop, that I have never actually visited."
"In preparation for our mission, might we be allowed to peruse the reports you did received from Pathfinder Wuthers?"
"Sorry, so rude of me. Greetings my fellow pathfinders. My name is Fronar Gossamar, and I look forward to accompany and inspire you to feats of greatness that will amaze even the most inebriated of dwarves at the local inn!"
Eliza allows her eyes to rest on Fronar for several moments.
"The Grand Lodge is not in the business of providing extravagant outfits for its members. I suggest you go shopping and purchase something appropriate - depending on your execution, you may or may not be recommended for other similar missions requiring a certain ah, social touch. You may find purchasing such outfits in Taldor to be more fashionable as they have quite different tastes than we do in Absalom..."
As the bard inquires about her reports, she shakes her head.
"I am afraid I have already forwarded his reports along to my superiors in order to get their approval for this mission and your subsequent selection for the task at hand."
She drums her fingers along the desk briefly.
"Now is a splendid time to prove your resourcefulness and launch your careers. Try not to disappoint."
She smiles thoughtfully.
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Iso laughs loudly. "Back where I come from they just say 'get out, and don't get dead'"
He slaps Fronar on the back, puts an overly familiar arm around the shoulders of Race and says "Lets go get a drink while we wait for the boat."
Just as he is heading for the door he stops, turns around and looks at Eliza. He holds up his left hand and counts fingers. "Or maybe we should wait for the rest of the team."
His strange silver eyes bore into Eliza. "Who else is assigned to this job with us?"
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Just as Iso gets to the door, it flings open, revealing a well-dressed, rather handsome young man, an elegant staff in one hand. His wide eyes and insistent expression directed to Eliza seem to indicate a need to speak with her. Though he does stop in surprise at Iso's presence at the door.
"...uh, excuse me! Lady Petulengro!" he says, pressing quickly past the others and approaching her desk. "I just heard you've assigned a group to investigate the site of a temple of Aroden. Please, milady, as his future replacement, I respectfully request I join them! This could be invaluable experience, and I need to know what kind of shoes I need to fill."
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"Be sure to wear something festive - the Taldan nobility are arrogant on their best days and if you arrive at the opera dressed like that.."
The Taldan noble bristles at the implication that he is anything less than impeccably dressed.
"Hmph."
Carlius is dressed in a Taldan courtier's outfit, a dark purple velvet affair not entirely suited to adventuring. Gold cufflinks and a few other touches of understated jewelry complete the impression that he's far wealthier than he actually is. His face is perfectly clean-shaven and his hair is meticulously in place.
Carlius continues to stew over the comment for the rest of the meeting.
"I don't suppose axes constitute part of the formal Opera dress code?"
Is it normal for opera-goers to arrive armed and armoured,
"I seem to have left my finest garments at a tailor's shop, that I have never actually visited."
Carlius lets out a long, dramatic sigh.
"Since clothing yourselves is clearly a task beyond your particular capabilities, I will take on the burden of selecting the wardrobe for the entire party. As much as you might like to sneer at your betters, the Taldan nobility are perceptive about such matters. If you arrive in last season's fashion it will not escape notice."
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"Mummy! cries Iso, wrapping the wizard in a huge bearlike hug as everyone else sees the grin plastered over his face.
Suddenly he steps back, holding his nose in disgust. "You smell funny!"
He looks at the rest of the group. "If we are all here now, lets find the boat, and maybe visit a pub on the way. Sea air is good for the nose, or so I hear."
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Carlius straightens his clothes.
"You smell funny!"
"That would be cleanliness you're smelling. It is a scent you too will have to acquire if you expect to be let into a Taldane opera house."
The enormity of the task before him hits Carlius for the first time.
By the gods, I'm expected to get this man into a formal opera house.
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Iso glares at Eliza for a moment. "People get sick when they bathe. Nobody said this would be dangerous."
Then with a sigh he shrugs. "I hope this Opera tastes good."
After which he burps loudly and then shares. "Shell fish give me wind. They better have some ale on the boat."
A worried look crosses his face. "Or should we stop at an inn first?"
He winks at Race.
Eliza gives you one final look and smiles as she stands.
"Good luck, Pathfinders. Use the cover of the opera to duck away and figure out where Wuthers was ahh - digging up this artifact. Try to be on your best behavior, as it reflects on not only you all, but myself as well..."
With haste, the five newly acquainted Pathfinders make their way to the docks of Absalom to the waiting ship.
As you depart the Grand Lodge, runners rush up to each of you, pressing missives into your waiting hands.
Fellow Patriot,
Word has reached my ears that you are to be sent to Oppara to attend an opera. Try not to let the decadence of Taldan society sway you from our cause — Taldor is our mortal enemy and to that end, I ask you to spy on them. Many members of the Taldan elitist nobility will be present at that opera. Befriend one and convince him that ours is the greater cause — for his money pouch. Enclosed you'll find a satchel of gold trade bars — be certain that he knows this is just a taste, and receive assurances from him that he’ll give us what we ask for when the time is right.
It's probably too much to hope for, but if he's a civil servant, an underpaid member of low nobility slogging away in service to his wretched bureaucratic Empire - why, that would serve Andoran the best.
Sincerely,
Captain Colson Maldris
Agent of the Glorious Empire,
My jealousy knows no bounds. It has been a decade since I saw our glorious capital, the gilded city of Golarion. And to return to see an opera at the famed House of the Immortal Son, no less — you will be the envy of all your brethren.
I have it on good authority that our Emperor’s consul for the fourth district of Oppara Prefecture, Magistros Sebastus Hustavan, will be attendance for the opera called Among the Living at the Immortal Son the night you arrive. Be sure you attend that opera specifically and give Hustavan a message for me — tell him Baron Dalsine is aware of the secret account, that we know who funds it, and that he’d best be ready to tell me everything when he travels to Absalom next month as part of a diplomatic mission.
Do it quietly, out of earshot of your companions, and you’ll have my thanks.
With Sincerest Gratitude,
Baron Jacquo Dalsine
Honored Subject of the Ruby Prince,
The faintest of whispered rumor has reached my ears and they say to me that you are to be sent across the Inner Sea to decadent Taldor’s capital to attend an opera. I won’t spend a moment of this letter wondering why the Pathfinder Society, in its wisdom, has determined that your time is better spent in fine clothing, on soft cushions, and sipping fine wines when you could be dressed in armor, slogging through jungles, and finding the rarest of the world’s objects and bringing news of their discoveries to me.
It occurs to me that your vacation in the gilded city could be of some use to the Ruby Prince. Emperor Stavian III of Taldor himself is said to sometimes attend the opera at the House of the Immortal Son, and it would benefit Osirion greatly if we could listen in on his inane conversations while he relaxes and watches his subjects perform for him. I’ve enclosed a small stone, a trifle no larger than your thumb that I wish for you to leave behind after the opera is over.
Specifically, there is an entrance to the House of the Immortal Son that is bedecked with a violet carpet—this is the Emperor’s exclusive entrance. Leave the stone there—in a crack of granite, under the rug, inside a lamp, the choice is up to you. Be sure where you leave it, though, is somewhere not easily discovered by the opera house’s cleaning crew. One last thing: it is forbidden for anyone not of the royal court to enter the hallway in question, so you’ll need your finest subterfuge to gain access. I’m sure you will succeed.
In All Sincerity,
Amenopheus, The Sapphire Sage
The sea voyage takes nearly a week before they arrive at Oppara, the capital of Taldor.
The dominant building materials of Oppara are stone, marble, granite, and bricks. Six thousand years of history and the extravagance of the empire's capital are obvious in the city's design. The streets are paved in grandiose mosaic tile or well-laid cobblestones. Stone gutters quickly siphon off the frequent summer rains into the city's expansive sewer system. Public fountains dot many of the larger crossroads and squares.
Carriages filled with nobles creak past you on the open avenues as the ship's captain bids you farewell.
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Fronar's curiosity shows with his left eyebrow raising and says, "Interesting greeting between a warrior and a mystical researcher. Do you two know each other somehow?"
"Dear wizard, I would gladly appreciate your expertise in matters of fashion."
"It will be a great comfort knowing that I will be around to tell the tales of our adventure, since we are blessed with a man of healing. Although, did you say you were the future replacement of Aroden! I am anxious to see if this implication is a result of being touched with gifts or just touched in the head."
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Carlius and Iso
"Dear wizard, I would gladly appreciate your expertise in matters of fashion."
"Carlius if you please. Now, how much ready coin do you all have? A gentleman might, with proper economy, dress himself for an evening out on as little as 80 gold pieces."
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Iso grins at Fronar, oblivious to the innuendo. "I know many men. Why, sharing a jug or two makes men brothers!"
As the ship arrives in port he too hangs on the coat tails of Carlius. "So big."
The barbarians eyes can't help but look at the fabulous structures all around. Eventually he notices that the dress code is some what different from his own.
"Perhaps you may assist me with some different clothes? It would be hard to help out the Society if I am barred entrance to the Oppara."
He sniffs the air. "Do the men of this town wear perfume? Is that what I smelt on you, Carlius?"
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"Do the men of this town wear perfume? Is that what I smelt on you, Carlius?"
"I explained this a week ago, the difference you smell is called 'cleanliness'. You will need perfume. We can start with soap though. You're going to want to eat some soap."
He clicks his tongue.
"Preferably before we visit the tailor yes? I have some in my bag you can eat."
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Iso looks on in disgust. "Soap is [i]not[i] for eating where I come from."
Casting his eye around the teaming seaside market, he spies a fruit vendor. "Yumm. Durian!"
He waits a moment and then finally says. "And then if we need to, I can have a bath. The sacrifices I make."
His teeth sink into the fruit. "Beautiful. Nobody will complain about my bad breath now."
(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Durian)
A short, slightly overweight woman with curly brown hair pushes her spectacles up onto her nostril and narrows her eyes as the juice from the durian drips down Iso's chin and into his beard.
She takes a few steps forward, mutters something to herself, and seems to find the courage to address you all.
"Pathfinders? I was certain of it!"
Beaming at the correctness of her assumption, she curtsies slightly.
"Greetings fellow adventurers. I am Lucia Pemberthy, and I received a letter not but an hour ago about your arrival!"
Excitedly, she clasps her hands and takes a couple steps forward while examining you.
"I have good news, in that I was able to procure five tickets for the grand opening of Among the Living, which is premiering tonight at the House of the Immortal Son!"
With this announcement, she digs into a small purse and produces five small slips of paper that she presses into Carlius's hand.
"It was easy, actually! When I mentioned famous adventurers from the Society wished to attend, they were all too kind to dig up some recently returned tickets. I'm afraid the seats aren't very good, though..."
Frowning, she looks back at you all, as if searching for some indication she did a good job.
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"It was easy, actually! When I mentioned famous adventurers from the Society wished to attend, they were all too kind to dig up some recently returned tickets. I'm afraid the seats aren't very good, though..."
"They know we're adventurers from the society then? I suppose that defeats the purpose of trying to disguise Iso as a gentleman. Not that I don't love a nice impossible task now and again. By the way, who are you exactly? Mz... Pemberthy was it?"
He turns to the others.
"In light of this new information I'm willing to lower my earlier estimate. If you're willing to concede to looking utterly ridiculous I think I can get you in the door for as little as 30 gold," he steals a glance at Iso "No promises though."
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Iso beems in delight and moves forward to wrap her in his arms.
"Fantastic. You were amazing!" he smiles encouragingly at her.
After releasing his prisoner he looks at Carlius. "Thirty gold? I don't have that much money. I maybe have thirty silvers."
Then in a lower voice (but still far too lould) he adds "That whore charged more than I thought she would. She said I took as long as five men." with a grin he repeats. "As long as five men!"
He looks around. "So, no need for a bath then?" he asks hopefully.
Lucia chortles slightly at Carlius's appraisal of 'dressing up' Iso and giggles as the Kellid easily lifts her not-so-light frame off her feet for a moment.
"Why yes, the nobles just love the adventuring sort at the theater, it gives them that much more to discuss at their dinners."
Lucia alters her voice to a slightly deeper, huskier one as she imitates a Taldan noble at a dinner party.
"Why, yes Hestia! You *should* have been there! I was only four seats away and spied the brute had filed all of his teeth to razor sharp points! Imagine that!"
Smiling and then taking a few steps around Iso, she puts her chin in her hand.
"I'd suggest you do bring him in fully armed - axe and all. Perhaps a faux tatzylwurm to wrap around his shoulders? Aren't there some stories about Kellid warriors who wear bells that jingle so that all their enemies know they are coming?"
Lucia nods her approval to Carlius.
"Yes, I approve! Dress yourselves up for the show, it will be most splendid! I'm certain there's a costume shop somewhere around here that has something excellent for a mere thirty silvers..."
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"Why yes, the nobles just love the adventuring sort at the theater, it gives them that much more to discuss at their dinners."
"That's brilliant! We couldn't hope to make Iso civilized, so we'll emphasize how uncivilized he is. He could be a curiosity! I'm picturing... a feathered headdress and uncured animal skins. And of course lots of bells."
He turns to Iso.
"And yes my fr- my associate, this does mean you won't have to bathe. So your many storied colonies of parasites can rest easy."
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"Bells?" asks Iso. "But wouldn't that mean that people hear you coming?" he shakes his head, and a spray of Durian juice goes flying. "You people are touched in the head if you ask me. Why would a warrior wear bells?"
Still, looking at his face you can see the idea has maybe somehow taken hold.
"Actually I kind of like that idea. Maybe little silver ones in the shape of skulls? That would be at least interesting."
He rummages in his pack and takes out some feathers. "I already have feathers..." he points to the tattoos covering his arms. They seem to somehow symbolise something, and the feathers seem to 'agree' with them.
"Iso will dress up for formal events. I don't have much occassion to do that in these lands. It will be a pleasure to wear my warrior feathers again. I will do the raptors proud!"
He gives the wizard a big hug, and whispers in his ear.
After being suitably dressed he grins at Lucia. "Maybe we could meet up after the Oppera?"
Next time he gets close to Fronar he looks at the man, as if trying to remember something. "Just point me in the right direction. Plans are a waste of time on the battlefield."
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Race is quite bemused by the antics of his group. The sea voyage is long, but entertaining. While relieved to not have to spend a fortune to get into this opera, he is quite taken with a fabulous Taldane officer's dress uniform on display that will go very well with his shiny new suit of breastplate armour.
Spending 30 gp on "courtier's outfit".
Trying it on, he checks himself out in the shop's mirror. "I could get used to dressing like this," he comments to Carlius.
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Ford didn't feel terribly comfortable in all this wealth and extravagance. "What can be purchased with around 10 gp? I'm afraid most of what I've earned has been given to anyone I meet in dire need. I... don't have much on me."
Looking down, he quirked an eyebrow at his current apparel, before straightening it up and shining it a little, striking a pose. "Then again, I do make even the simplest attire look striking. Perhaps I can compensate with some charm and wit?"
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"What can be purchased with around 10 gp?
"Cheap forgeries and shame."
"I'm afraid most of what I've earned has been given to anyone I meet in dire need. I... don't have much on me."
"More the fool you, then."
"Then again, I do make even the simplest attire look striking. Perhaps I can compensate with some charm and wit?"
A courtier's outfit sans jewelery and a clumsy foreigner's approximation of charm? Yes, that will go nicely with our feathered barbarian. The savage and the witwould.
"If you can't afford it, you can't afford it. I don't anticipate there being issue. I'm certain you will dazzle them with your repartee."
With a single of bells, you all set foot into the Mummer's Guise, a small costume shop just a block away from the Immortal Son.
An eccentric tiny man squints at you all from behind large, thick-rimmed spectacles.
"Mmm... yessss?"
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"I don't remember the officers I saw wearing much jewellry with their dress uniforms. Medals and such. Alas, I don't have any medals. However, I'm sure this magnificent sword and armour, worth more than 50 gp in trinkets, should complement the outfit nicely. Of course, it is possible that this opera will be populated by a collection of shallow-minded snobs only concerned with how much money a person has."
Race buys a Taldane military dress uniform (worth about the same as a courtier's outfit, so 30 gp). He used to be in the Taldan military, so it isn't too much of a lie, and he makes sure to remove any extra rank insignia that he doesn't deserve. He will also take the time to polish his armour, scabbard and sword until they shine.
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Ford scowled at Carlius' snippy comment. "My apologies. Some of us have a higher calling then dressing up in fancy threads." he quipped back, before exhaling, recollecting himself and shopping around the store. There seemed to be very little he could afford... and then something caught his eyes!
"Far more religious than noble, but than again, how can one turn down in such fine clerical attire?" he said, picking it up and holding it over him. "There wouldn't happen to be a way to loosen the legs and change it to green and silver, would there?"
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Iso looks around the shop.
Eventually he settles on some beautiful silver bells.
"See, silver bells. I will weave them into my beard. Everyone will admire taste and sophistication of Iso Soturi now!"
He points to his backpack, full of tents and camping equipment. "Do we have lodgings? Somewhere to leave tramping gear? Arriving in glorious axe and armour is one thing. Arriving with backpack and tent maybe pushing it."
He looks hopefully at Lucia. "Maybe I could stay in your tent?"
After counting out your coins and examining the foreign currency for forgeries, the tiny man bids you farewell as you return to the streets in your new garb.
You all watch as commoners, nobles and royalty alike make their way down the main avenue towards the Immortal Son to attend the night's show.
The north entrance seems to have a crowd of common folks, cobblers, shipwrights, smiths, and the like seeking entry.
The west entrance seems to be where the actors and actresses themselves are seeking entry.
The south entrance appears to be where royalty would enter, or the king if he were present.
The east entrance has a handful of nobles chatting and seeking entry.
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"Well, it seems it is time for us to split up. Propriety and all that. One of you should try to see if you can learn anything from the actors while I go schmooze with the nobles. Nobody acknowledge you know me. I'll meet the rest of you riff-raff inside."
With that Carlius, somewhat overconfidently, heads over to the blue carpet.
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Before Carlius has a chance to leave, Iso leans forwards, a big paw on his shoulder.
Then with a friendly smile, he heads off towards the green carpet, ticket firmly in hand. As he gets closer, he pays careful attention, listening to what is being said by the crowd.
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For no other reason (actually, there is another one, but this one is fun, too) than the joy of the stiffening of Carlius' spine, Race nods agreement, and heads over to the blue carpet a few paces behind the rather pompous would-be nobleman.
He looks about at the other gathered nobles, trying to ascertain which ones are really looking down on him for his effrontery, and which seem closer to an equal footing with himself. He returns the latter looks with polite smiles, and the former with big, dopey ones.
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Ford shook his head as he watched Calius leave for the blue carpet., snickering as Race took after him, while Iso headed for the common folk. "Much as I'd love to join him and my potential faithful, I have a more... challenging crowd to speak with." Ford leaned closer to Fronar, whispering to him.
Heading for the purple carpet, Ford straightened himself up as best as he could, before approaching the door. "I understand this is where his majesty Emperor Stavian III enjoys his shows. I'm curious to know if he'd enjoy a bit of divine company?"
Carlius and Race make their way to the noble's entrance and find the current season of fashion in Taldor to be considerably eclectic, with man nobles dressed in loose fitting clothes, not unlike Varisian gypsies, excepting their preference for more Taldan colors, shunning the earth tones typically worn by those folk for vibrant reds, greens and yellows.
The line moves along with a fairly swift pace and with their tickets handed to the usher, both men find themselves able to make their way to their seats or to the bar area.
**
Iso finds himself to be the most interestingly dressed in attendance working his way through the door he has chosen. Most folks appear to have recently ended their workday and he finds himself in the company of shipwrights, clerics, merchants and tradesman.
A young girl, not more than twelve, attending along with her mother, stops and points at Iso.
"Mommy! Look, a big barbarian. Is he Ulfen Guard? His skin's so much darker than usual.."
**
Ford finds the entrance for royalty to be roped off as a long purple carpet stretches over fifty feet into the avenue. At least six guards in full armor and Taldan decor stand at key positions as a man in decadent furs gestures at several bystanders.
His arrival is announced by a young boy whose sole purpose seems to be to do just such.
"All hail the arrival of the resplendid Magistros Sebastus Hustavan, Grand Emperor Stavian III's consul for the fourth district of Oppara Prefecture!"
With a final gesture, the man disappears into an interior room where he seems to be meeting with perhaps the theater's manager while a handful of guards move to stand in front of the doors.
One guard steps up to Ford.
"May I help you, sir?"
Upon offering his company, the guard rubs his chin and calls the young boy over, quietly asks him a question while he shakes his head, and they both look to you.
"I'm sorry, sir. But I'm do not know who you are. This entrance is for members of the royal court only. You can find other entrances to north and east. Young Tristan here can show you the way if you require assistance?"
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Ford blinked a couple times at the hall guard before stepping back a tad and clanking his staff into the ground, clapping his fist over his cleaned armor. "Who am I!? I am Ford, ally of Irori, and future replacement deity for Aroden himself! I am well on my way to God-hood, and if your Emperor had the time or the sense, he would hear me out! I seek to benefit all of Taldor, and for that, I will need his cooperation! Send word of my arrival, my future faithful, and quickly!"
If nothing else, he hoped this would distract the guards long enough for Fronar to do his task...
The young boy's eyes widen as they drink in the full splendor of Iso, bedecked as he is in his latest costumed embellishments.
"Coooooool."
Tugging at his mom, he looks up at her.
"I want to be an Ulfen Guard when I grow up, mom. Can I sit on his shoulders?"
The mom gives him a harried look as she examines her ticket and advances with the crowd, not even bothering to look Iso's way.
"Now, now, Rafael. Don't bother the poor man. Why don't you help me find my seat? We're in row E, seats 7 and 8..."
**
Carlius looks about and recognizes a handful of the more obvious nobles in town. Lord Pensworth, Lord Peabody, Lady Tarbella. Most seem to be socializing with one another and moving to the seats closest to the stage.
**
A couple guards wander closer to Ford, amused by his outburst.
"Hey, Rodrick. Get a load of this fella..."
As a couple advance beyond the roped area, there seems to be a window for Fronar to dash in.
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Iso hands his ticket over. Then, following the enthusiastic boy politely points out row 'E' to the mother.
I bet she thought I couldn't read.
Iso eyes up the seating and his ticket. Then he eyes up the seating again, and the length of his legs.
This looks like something that you would do to a criminal, confining them in such small spaces.
A vaguely panicked look crosses the big man’s face. He goes looking for someone to see if a larger seat (or at least an aisle seat with more leg room) can be found. While he does so, he listens for any mention of The House of the Immortal Son.
While doing so he keeps his eye out for the 'Ulfen Guard'
If I look like them and they are some type of Taladorian special company that looks after nobles I may be able to mix.