GM OfAnything's Darkest Abduction (Inactive)

Game Master KingOfAnything

A young halfling runner enters the lodge at a trot yelling, ”Urgent missive from Karcau! Lady Kalistoff needs our best in Ustalav.”

He waves a perfumed letter in the air, then pins it to the notice board.

If you dot, please delete.

Lurgh had just returned to the Grand Lodge after a day of mediation and fishing off the docks in Absalom. He hadn't much luck, as the fish were not keen on biting. He tapped his feet against the foundation to shake loose some of the water that had clung to his boots.

Setting his rod and tackle aside as he entered the lodge he spied the halfling walking away from the notice board and the freshly pinned letter.

Lurgh's eyes scanned the words written on the letter. Once, then again more slowly, line by line. His right hand reflexively thumbs a vial causing the slightly viscous liquid within to slosh about.

Can't say I'm eager to return there, that land swallows the light in more ways that one. But seeing as I've been there before, I'm likely to get picked again, so I might as well volunteer.

Lurgh returns to the door of the lodge, picks up his gear and departs once more.

Near the Cloisoi Theatre in Karcau at 6pm on the seventh day of Gozran

An elf comes towards the theatre. His feet are a good foot above the ground and he is followed by a two chests that stand on a shimmering disk of force. Near the theatre the elf comes to a full stop, looking for others he might recognize. His clothes are elegant, he is obviously prepared for a night at the theatre.

"Chair" he says and one of the chest opens. Out floats a folding chair that is unfolded by an unseen force. The elf sits down and waits for what comes next.

A splendid figure in full armor strides down the road towards the Cloisoi theater. Upon his shield is a modest coat of arms, and those in the know would be easily able to tell he was of Taldane nobility. A closer perusal by a skilled herald would detect the crest of the Sehir family. At best minor nobility and with no real fame. Still, probably not someone to be messed with. Next to the family crest is enscribed the rune of the open road, indicating he also perhaps is associated with the Pathfinders.

He stops outside the theater, looking up and down the road his eyes lock on other figures, trying to work out who else may be a pathfinder.

Hanging around just outside the lodge, a ragged figure pretends to be sitting around in a drunken stupor, occasionally holding a dirty hand out in hopes of receiving aid from the more fortunate and generous passersby. He, or possibly she seems to have no luck, as a simple sack to his side is clearly empty, and it's clear the smell the figure reeks is off-putting enough to keep most others a way. One might wonder how such a beggar expects to make a living when the entire area around him reeks of dung, though I wise skeptic might question jut why that dung seems fresh, and even wonder if that is truly the point after all.

From beneath a dirty leper's showl, Garinol's keen eyes remain alert for the follower of the deity of "accidental" deaths. The rumor he was looking into was that an acolyte had again infiltrated the Society under the pretense of an initiate of another, more acceptable faith. Garinol had always wondered just how one becomes a faithful of Zyphus? What was the possible appeal? Certainly the damage they can do was apparent.

Another group of jollies pass by, and the beggar's open hand rises as they do, but his eyes remain watchful on the area, not their coin purses. Suddenly the beggar stops, his keen ears perking, his head turning as he senses something. Karcau. . . Lady Kalistoff

Taking a few more moments to maintain his masquerade, Garinol stands, pulling a string tight on his pack to close it, (and suddenly the smell fades away), then slowly making his way down a dark alley. Only seconds latter, a lesser noble dressed in the garb of Qadira emerges, swiftly leaping over the Lodge's outer wall with ease and head's within. He flashes a Wayfinder, quickly bypassing any resistance to the only partially "By Invite Only" Lodge's entrance, and watches as a man places yet another mission upon the board.

To some Pathfinders, various monuments within the Lodges where,. . . sacred. The Wall of Names, for instance. To him, if there where one, aside from the obvious chapels, the notice board would have been it.

As he stands there, reading the simple request for aid, his garments seems to slowly shift colors. From the simple, pure white to a tan. Within a minute they become a serene light green. Only his eyes are truly visible beneath his desert garb, but they seem to shift as well, magically, but it's a slow process, one that doesn't draw attention.

Reaching into a fold, he withdraws a small personal journal, taking a few quick notes to keep times, places, and such details clear, and turns to leave. There is not much time. Few places need the Dawnflower's light more than Ustalav, and the church should be able to throw some sort of passage together to make this happen.

Before he leaves, Garinol's robes turn to a dark, crimson red with black and purple highlights.

The driver of the extended-length carriage, Ferdinand Farfacé, initially balked at the sight of Pumpkin. His professional manners slowly returned in the face of Zahra’s enthusiastic protestations. He quickly loaded your luggage onto the roof once the large tiger settled on the floor of the carriage, calmly cleaning his claws. Despite the tiger's bulk, there was plenty of room for the party.

Your instructions from Venture-Captain Basia Kalistoff are to meet this evening at the Cloisoi Theater in Karcau. However, you arrive early in the day and have the rare opportunity to explore the Village of Voices for a time before receiving your assignment.

Dozens of tiny islands dot the clay-tinged lake waters where the Moutray river empties into Lake Prophyria, just visible through the morning mist. The carriage drives down avenues lined with linden and walnut. In one of the many spacious gardens, a man and woman in opera dress sit on a simple blanket, exchanging forkfuls of eggy pie. Behind them a young man concentrates on a violin, it's lone voice singing a love song unto the dawn.

The cities and towns of Ustalav (and even some of the countryside) are characteristically dark and oppressive, reveling in the gothic construction of manors and castles. As you approach Karcau, a lack of fortifications gives the city an airiness unique to the country. An obvious architectural love of arches, balconies, and towers, each made of limestone or pale marsh woods aid in opening the city, filling the streets and structures with light. When a maid opens one of the large, elaborate windows of an elegant townhouse, arpeggios drift gently down to the street. The whole city echoes and rings as the city’s musicians and hopeful apprentices practice almost endlessly. The drums, bells, lyres and tambourines of residents on the outskirts of town give way to harps, flutes, cellos and pianos as you approach the storied city center. Men with capes, tall hats, and the occasional decorated mask browse displays of instruments and cross paths with women in daring gowns with long gloves and ornate veils buying bread from carts and tittering over tutors.

Ferdinand's scowl is just visible through the open privacy window as the carriage slows. Just visible in the distance stands an extravagant structure resembling a giant mausoleum with morbid statuary and the organization’s symbol, a spiral of three red tears, decorating the exterior. The towering building is likely visible from anywhere in the city. ”Local funerals are flashy, opulent affairs arranged by the Eylusia Company—purveyors of fine funeral experiences.” This morning, there is a long line of people moving slowly into town. Dancers, a magician, and a drum line in sharp uniforms entertain a thin morning crowd. As you pass by the affair, Ferdinand says stiffly, ”We must go out of our way to avoid the parade, but it should not delay us unduly. Consider it the scenic route.” his tight voice resigned to the delay.

The morning mist is nearly gone when you pass by the Karcau Opera. ”The Karcau Opera stands as the most prestigious school of the arts in northern Avistan. Upon its campus stand the Karcau Conservatory, the Livgrace Orchestra, the Dyemeir Opera House, and the Museum of Song.” Ferdinand proudly explains. As you pass by a boarding house, a young man with messy red hair rushes to collect a haphazard stack of papers and parchment from the pavement before it can blow away. Two prima donnas giggle as they pass and a man strides by, robes flapping in the breeze off the lake, appearing not to notice the boy. A young woman with large, glossy hair to best her robust body dashes to a nearby fountain and gracefully saves a solo from taking an unfortunate swim. Not a hair on her head is out of place when she offers a hand to the young man.

Finally, the carriage draws up to Blaispear Plaza. Before the cold eyes of the Cloisoi Theater’s innumerable angels stand two dozen ornate granite pedestals. From upon these columns the posturing bronzes of the region’s greatest heroes consider their beneficiaries, noble figures like Coalise, who lured the Graidemere Serpent to its doom; Jayde the Winged Warrior; the twins Guitad and Maidce standing against the morlock hordes; the Desnan priest, Adterly; and Silversong, the steed of the exiled poet Carmain Rowles. Amid these personalities also rest several vacant pedestals. Below the statue of the horse, a man in tails strums a small harp and sings a sorrowful ballad. A scruffy teen across the way throws her hat to the pavement and starts tuning a lyre. Before she begins to play, two lawmen approach her from one corner of the plaza and carry her bodily from the square.

Ferdinand stops the carriage at the far end of Blaispear Plaza from the theatre, jumps down from the driver’s bench, and opens the door with a short bow. ”Lady Kalistoff said to leave you here.” he says, producing a sealed letter addressed to Pathfinders.

This is a chance to explore the city before we officially begin the scenario. Most of this material was built from Rule of Fear the Campaign Setting book about Ustalav.

Omar is a good looking young man, probably in his early twenties. His bronze skin stands out against the pale complexion of the locals. He keeps his black hair, beard and mustache short and precisely trimmed. His clothing is colorful and artistic, incorporating a picture of a long-tailed song bird perched above some roses. That plus the silvery-bladed glaive he so easily carries marks him as a follower of Shelyn. Seeing an obvious holy symbol, you would guess he is a priest.

Beside him is a beautiful woman and a rather large orange and black tiger. The tiger often rubs up against each of them and seems very friendly.

At the docks, Omar allows Zahra to explain to Ferdinand how smart and well trained her tiger is. As is often the case, this includes both of them throwing a ball for Pumpkin to catch and bring back to them. He smiles and rubs the tiger affectionately on the head.

He offers his hand to the woman as she enters the carriage and then follows himself.

Once in the carriage, he allows the woman traveling with him to introduce herself before he nods and says "...and I am Omar." His smile is bright and he seems genuinely pleased to meet each of you.

"So, have any of you been here before? This is our first trip to this country!"

During the ride, he often hums along with the snippets of song he can hear. "So wonderful, all the musicians everywhere!" He seems quite happy when the driver explains how they will be taking the scenic route to their destination.

Once the carriage arrives at Blaispear Plaza, Omar gets out before Zahra and then offers his hand up to her as she steps out.

When he hears of The Aria, he grins and exclaims "That sounds wonderful! A building designed to carry music throughout it!"

He looks to the rest of you and asks "Would any of you care to join the three of us exploring the area? We will be getting a room at the Aria, but it seems we have plenty of time before we need to be at the theater!"

Vrald shakes his head at Omar. "This is my first time to Ustalav." he admits.

"Although obviously I have heard ghost stories told about it. Though none mentioned the beauty of the people or their love of music."

He looks with some concern at the woman being led away by those who appear to be authorities.

"Does anyone know why she is not allowed to play? There would seem to be unusual laws at play here, and I would not want us to fall foul of them. "

With a pause he then adds "I would be delighted to walk the town with the two of you. And Pumpkin too, obviously."

He looks around, glancing again at the lawmen. "Apart from the rigorous guards, this appears to be a peaceful place. Maybe because of the guards rigor."

Image of Garinol

With a gentle bow of his head, Garinol, now dressed in garb more befitting an explorer offers respect to the other assembled Pathfinders, simply adding "I am called Garinol, my friends" as it comes to his turn, and extends an open hand.

Sense Motive DC 10: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (13) + 12 = 25 Sensing Vrald's discomfort, Garinol will remove his own Tiger Mask, revealing his face, but also pulling his veil around protectively.

"I have been here before, and while I'm not a fan of the arts, I do miss the architecture of these lands. It reminds me of early morning, just before the first rays have victoried over the darkness, that moment where hope is gathering it's strength. When one candle is lighting the other. Ustalav is built with that brief moment in it's very bones like no other place on the Inner Sea."

"The first time I was here, Lady Kalistoff requested we meet at the Opera house,. . ." pointing out the Karcau Opera House in the distance for effect, "to help the Society. It would seem that things are as usual here. If you would like, I can give you a brief tour of the city. Or at least those parts I know. I would like to check in with the local temple here before proceeding with our tasks. It is not far, right in the center of the city near Blairspear Plaza."

If anyone wishes to join him on a short trip to the Temple of the Dawnflower, Garinol will briefly explain a short history of Ustalav and expand on his basic knowledge of the area, pointing out distant locations of note such as the Starling House, the waterways, and various small islands around the bay. "In particular to the north are the swamps, and their locally noted insect problem. Notice how the locals all wear scarfs or headdresses, and tend to be covered head to toe? Beneath the city itself are countless natural, . . . and some unnatural tunnels. The Karcaussians have made some of these into their sewer and drainage system, though cultists, shamans, and criminals also flock to them for safe hiding places. These have caused the water levels to switch, removing the natural pools beneath ground and causing the swamps.'

"Superstition holds real power here in these lands, or perhaps there is a great lack of wisdom and knowledge amongst the more,. . . educated locals, but do not underestimate either the swampers nor the various evils that dwell in these dark lands. I suggest you be extremely watchful should you wish to visit the various institutes of "art" and "culture" here. Very little here, is as it seems. Despite the various Operas, colleges, and museums, Shelyn his not favored here."

I want to check in just in case we need to use my Temple Vanity. Also will repeat everything from the first two skill check spoilers, not just the bits I mentioned.

Along the way, Garinol also points out Mirigold Manor. "This was one of the Societies earliest Lodges here in Ustalav, and where we had been asked to investigate. Turned out that the Venture-Captain had discovered an enormous cavern beneath the swamps and his owl manor leading into the Darklands. He had made many strides in befriending the "Dark Folk", but they turned on him, attempting to, from what I can gather, utilize a strange device to harvest his soul and, I believe, swallow the land in permanent darkness."

Know Geography (Aid): 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6
Know Local (Aid): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22
-
Know Geography: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (16) + 3 = 19
Know Local: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23

"Oh, also my friends, before we begin, please take and wear one of these." as he passes out a single ornate platinum ring to each of the Pathfinders. "In times of great need, I might call upon sacred energies to help protect you through the spiritual link this implement creates between each of you and myself. But, doing so can be very draining, very deadly to myself, and you will need to stay near me, less such protection is sundered." Each ring looks identical, made of four separate sections of platinum wound together to form a celestial design.

Omar
Zahra
Pumpkin

"Does anyone know why she is not allowed to play? There would seem to be unusual laws at play here, and I would not want us to fall foul of them. "

"She was putting out a hat, to collect donations. Perhaps they require a license or something of the street performers?" Omar muses. With a shrug, he says "I don't know, but perhaps we can ask a constable at some point."

With a pause he then adds "I would be delighted to walk the town with the two of you. And Pumpkin too, obviously."

Sense motive: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (18) + 14 = 32

Omar subtly calls Pumpkin to the side opposite of Vrald, giving the man a bit more space between him and the beast.

..."If you would like, I can give you a brief tour of the city. Or at least those parts I know. I would like to check in with the local temple here before proceeding with our tasks. It is not far, right in the center of the city near Blairspear Plaza."

"Thank you, we welcome having someone familiar with the area to show us around!"

"Why do we not go ask her and the authorities now?" but it seems they are too late as the three vanish into the crowd before we are able to get there, <I assume>. "From what I know, music and art are not acts of worship here as you might be accustomed to , but rather a commodity and highly competitive livelihood. It's likely that those who make their living off of such things do not like others,. . . undercutting them, and I imagine that there is some consternation between these more civilized Karcaussians and the "barbaric" Karcaussian "swampers" at play as well."

"Does anyone know why she is not allowed to play? There would seem to be unusual laws at play here, and I would not want us to fall foul of them. "

Ferdinand coughs politely, "The lawmen keep prominent areas clear of ruffians. To keep up the best appearance for visitors such as yourselves. Notice the man with the harp allowed to play? Every inn and tavern has a stage. I'm sure she'll find someplace more... suitable to earn her dinner."

After a few minutes the lawmen return to their post on the corner of the square.

Zahra spent much of the long carriage ride with her head asleep on Omar's shoulder, her bare feet warmed by Pumpkin's fur as the large tiger stretched over the floor of the carriage, dreaming some sort of tigerish dream. She woke up when Omar nudged her as they entered Krakau, and joined in with the oohs and aahs at the sights and scenes of this lovely city. "Have you ever seen a town as blessed by Shelyn as this one, Omar? It almost looks as friendly as Katapesh!"

Alighting from the carriage, she takes Omar's hand. She then offers a dazzling smile up at Ferdinand the driver, offering him her hand to kiss. "Ve had an excellent ride! Even Pumpkin vas very happy. And as you see, no damage to your carriage. He is such a good boy!"

With a lazy wave of her hand, she prestidigitates away all traces of orange and black fur that Pumpkin had shed, and shows Ferdinand the pristine carriage.

Knowledge Local (aid for Garinol): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (19) + 5 = 24
Boosts Garinol's Knowledge Local to a 25

"Oh, I have heard of these svampers! One of the nice people ve met back there," Zahra waves her hand airily because remembering names is not her forte, "he told me stories! He said that the svampers are seldom seen in Karcau proper, though they commonly scavenge in the sewvers below. The citizenry typically views the svampers vith awe, for despite being seen as backwater bumpkins, the reclusive folk are also supposedly capable of vorking strange miracles and terrible curses! How exciting, don't you think?"

Sense Motive DC 10 (Vrald): 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (10) + 3 = 13

She catches Omar's eye and nods approval for her husband's tactful treatment of Vrald's fears. She would have to show Vrald later what a good boy Pumpkin was!

Sense Motive DC 10 (Ferdinand): 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (19) + 3 = 22

Zahra raises an eyebrow at Ferdinand's tone. "But vasn't her music beautiful as vell? Sometimes the loveliest tunes can come even from those society disdains, yes?"

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 17 ⇒ (14) + 17 = 31

She smiles, taking any possible sting out of her words. Then she grins at Garinol. "So, you vill give us tour? How delightful!"

Pleased to have the huge killing machine a respectable distance from his own form, Vrald offers Zahra and Omar a respectable bow.

"Let us all stretch our legs. I find travelling too long in a carriage to be more of a challenge than a long day on a horse."

As the small group makes its way through the streets, admiring the beauty of the area he keeps his ears out and eyes open to the other side of the society. "The more you tell me about these swampers, the more I am concerned. Could they stage an uprising do you think?"

I don't want to overstep here, so I'm trying to keep things either light on specific details or more my character's speculation, as I'm not sure what this scenario has in store, and things change between scenarios.

"It is possible, though I do not think it is that likely. In the distant past, the Kellid peoples dwelled here. Early into the Age of Enthronement, when Taldor was still in it's youth, a warlord of, I believe the Second Army of Exploration pushed into the lands, and there was great conflict between the two, with the Taldor being victorious. History, written by the victors, suggests that those Kellid tribes practiced vile faiths and utilized foul magics and rituals. . ." he stops, allowing others to draw whatever conclusions they wish.

"This was prior to the rise of the Whispering Tyrant, but, it is believed that when he rose and called on his armies, he may have inadvertently, or perhaps purposefully, also awoken many other, "things", dark, twisted, and unnatural things that had slept in the earth here all along. The "Swampers" may be partially descendant from the Kellids, as well as Varisian wanders and the original Taldans, and of course they, like everyone else of these lands was scarred by the machinations of the Whispering Tyrant."

"I know little about their faith or practices, beyond that they hold the swamps and waters north of here as sacred. The encroachment of the more "cultured" members, the disdain for their ancient beliefs and lifestyles, and likely a great deal of misunderstandings taint their relationship, but, at the same time even the more . . . "cultured" of Karcau believe in the "Swamper's" powers, and pay a great deal for their blessings and to place curses and hexes upon rivals. For the most part, they leave the Swampers alone otherwise, and so, for the most part, they co-exist."

"Most likely the largest threat will come from foreigners, particularly young, stupid, and proud artists assuming that the Swampers are either stupid or barbaric, or disrespecting the lands that they hold sacred, but, most here are now used to such foreigners by now. If we get the chance, and you can stomach the spices, I highly recommend seeking out some of their food. It is like nothing else in the Inner Sea or Tian-Xia, though I've heard it bears a resemblance to some things from Arcandia?"

Thanks for keeping things in bounds. Let's try not to save the city from itself on the first day here. You haven't even had your briefing!

"But vasn't her music beautiful as vell? Sometimes the loveliest tunes can come even from those society disdains, yes?"

Ferdinand begins unloading several suitcases from the luggage rack atop the carriage, "Most folks here have at least a little skill, Mistress. If I had the chance to hear her play, I'm sure it would have been pleasant." he brushes his hands off. "A porter will take these up once you've rented your rooms. Will there be anything else before I see to the horses?"

"The more you tell me about these swampers, the more I am concerned. Could they stage an uprising do you think?"

The driver smiles at the nobleman, "Your friend is right. The city has an uneasy peace with its wild neighbors, but it is peace."

"Most likely the largest threat will come from foreigners, particularly young, stupid, and proud artists assuming that the Swampers are either stupid or barbaric, or disrespecting the lands that they hold sacred, but, most here are now used to such foreigners by now."

Ferdinand frowns at Garinol's musings, "You could be describing yourselves, or," he catches himself before glancing at Omar, "any of a hundred people this week. Do stay try to stay out of trouble while you are here, Pathfinders."

He pauses a beat for further instruction before hopping up to the driver's seat and taking the carriage to the stables.

It's okay to be tourists for now! Visit the sights or just enjoy the luxury of the inn. If you feel like doing good deeds, track the girl to whatever offbeat tavern you'd like to find her. Just try not to get authorities involved or upset the basic structure of this society before dinner.

Knowledge (Local) take 10: 10 + 21 + 2 = 33

Faeranduil has introduces himself in the coach "Faeranduil, evoker. Try to stay out of the fireballs."

In Karcau he tells the others "I will visit the local library. We will meet later"

He nods at Garindol "Listen to that boy, he seems to know things."

Thanks for keeping things in bounds. Let's try not to save the city from itself on the first day here. You haven't even had your briefing!

True. It's difficult to banter too much since the game is still a bit far off, since we don't want to start getting involved in anything yet, and I also don't want to present misinformation or things beyond what this character should actually know. Sigh. :P

"You could be describing yourselves, or," he catches himself before glancing at Omar, "any of a hundred people this week. Do stay try to stay out of trouble while you are here, Pathfinders."

"I will try my best, sir. I'm certainly including myself in that group, as I'm not entirely sure what forms of etiquette is the coin of their realm."

Continuing to walk about the city, pointing out this and that, "What manor of name is Faeranduil, my friend? I sense multiple aspects of accents and dialects, it's difficult to place."

Thanks for keeping things in bounds. Let's try not to save the city from itself on the first day here. You haven't even had your briefing!

Zahra Senay wrote:

"But vasn't her music beautiful as vell? Sometimes the loveliest tunes can come even from those society disdains, yes?"

Ferdinand begins unloading several suitcases from the luggage rack atop the carriage, "Most folks here have at least a little skill, Mistress. If I had the chance to hear her play, I'm sure it would have been pleasant." he brushes his hands off. "A porter will take these up once you've rented your rooms. Will there be anything else before I see to the horses?"

Omar offers to help Ferdinand unload, taking the various parcels as they are handed down. He takes a moment to place Pumpkin's pack on the large tiger.

"I have nothing more, thank you!" he cheerfully replies.

Ferdinand frowns at Garinol's musings, "You could be describing yourselves, or," he catches himself before glancing at Omar, "any of a hundred people this week. Do stay try to stay out of trouble while you are here, Pathfinders."

He pauses a beat for further instruction before hopping up to the driver's seat and taking the carriage to the stables.

"We are pathfinders. There is no need for us to seek out trouble, it has a way of finding us." Omar jests. Though I joke about it, at times that does seem the way of things.

If we're allowed to track the girl...
___

Zahra kisses Omar on the cheek. "Excuse me just vun moment, please! I just vant a moment to ask those nice law officers something!"

Take Ten Diplomacy: 10 + 17 = 27

She smiles, showing the officers the pink sequined vest of the Senay Performing Tiger Company. "Officers, vhere vould ve go to purchase a performing street licence in this town? My husband and I, ve are from Katapesh, vhere ve perform vith our tiger." She smiles. "Ve are very friendly, and Pumpkin is such a good boy! Vould you like to pet him? His fur is soft and he can balance balls on his nose! But ve not vish to get into trouble, like that girl just now... I thought dashing and knowledgeable guards like yourselves could tell us vhere to get license. Also... Do you vhere the girl vent? I vas thinking that maybe if she vas cleaned up and fed, maybe ve could hire her for background music for our act!"

Or just buy the poor child a meal, some better clothes and a street license of her own. Talent like that should not go wasted! It would offend Shelyn!

Pumpkin follows his mistress taking in the smells of this city. The wet cobbles feel a bit clammy on his toes, but he likes the sounds of the harp music in the air. His mistress is not in distress, so he does what Zahra usually has him do in cities... carries a ball in his jaws expectantly.

Pft-pft.

He puffs out a contented sound and drops a wet ball at the officer's feet, then looks up at Zahra expectantly.

Are we going to play fetch again?

Continuing to walk about the city, pointing out this and that, "What manor of name is Faeranduil, my friend? I sense multiple aspects of accents and dialects, it's difficult to place."

"You might know that we elves usually take a name that means something to us." the wizard stares into the street, not seeing anything

"One of our legends that can be traced back to Sovyrian is about a great wizard who created a planet called Faerun. I have been wanting to go to that place since I was a young elf. My name was originally Faerunalduil, as in he who seeks to go to Faerun. It turned out that that is a very difficult name for most humans, so I shortened it a bit. Not that humans have an easy time with my name now."

He smiles, something that you have not seen him doing before.

Knowledge (Local) take 10 33

In Karcau he tells the others "I will visit the local library. We will meet later"

Faeranduil knows that the most comprehensive library in the city is at the Karcau Opera, attached to the Museum of Song. Along with many historic instruments and magical reproductions, the museum houses scores of scores for various operas, symphonies and musical theatre, both well-known and obscure. Some of the notation is so old so as to be almost arcane.

"Officers, vhere vould ve go to purchase a performing street licence in this town? My husband and I, ve are from Katapesh, vhere ve perform vith our tiger." She smiles. "Ve are very friendly, and Pumpkin is such a good boy! Vould you like to pet him? His fur is soft and he can balance balls on his nose! But ve not vish to get into trouble, like that girl just now... I thought dashing and knowledgeable guards like yourselves could tell us vhere to get license. Also... Do you vhere the girl vent? I vas thinking that maybe if she vas cleaned up and fed, maybe ve could hire her for background music for our act!"

The two officers seem surprised at Zahra's interrogation. The taller of the two responds, "No license necessary, ma'am. As long as local ordinances are respected, anyone is free to add their voice in this city. The, uhhh, urchin was just a bit lost is all."

The other man adjusts his hat, revealing a curl of red hair. He reaches out to scratch the tiger, "Pumpkin, is it? I bet you put on a grand show. We showed her the way to Toadstools. If she's not there, she's probably not far."

Pft-pft.

Although disappointed that the guard did not pick up his ball, Pumpkin head butts the guard gently, and allows the guard to scratch his ears. Then he picks up the ball again, and drops it next to the guard's boots.

"No license required? Thank you, is good to know! Tell me... Vhat or Vhere is this 'Toadstools'? Is it far?"

It does not sound a very pleasant place to be sent.

- pause for guard response -

Once she has directions and an idea of where the urchin went, she returns the others. "Gentlemen, is it alright if ve do slight detour to find the girl? I'm vorried for her. Garinol, do you know vhere this 'Toadstools' is? Also... I must ask. I see that tiger mask you vear! I have vun just like it in my pack! Vere you in Jalmeray? Omar and I vent there vunce and had a lovely conversation with a bandit king! He had pet tiger too, though not a performing vun like Pumpkin!"

She holds out her graceful hand, to show Garinol that she is wearing his Platinum Puzzle Ring. "Thank you for letting me vear your ring. Is most lovely. Is there story behind it?"

Wisdom Check: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (15) + 1 = 16

"It is so clever! Look at all the moving pieces, and how they fit together. It is like music, I think! The different parts make harmony together."

She smiles at Garinol, and then up at Vrald, Lurgh and Faerunduil. "I know Faerunduil vishes to spend time at library, but maybe the other five of us could vander the city, and talk about previous adventures? Ve have traveled all over Vorld for Pathfinder Society, but ve alvays love hearing about the adventures of others, too!"

She glances back at Faerunduil. "Your name is lovely, though I could not pronounce it. Maybe Omar can? He is the linguist of the two of us! Everything I say is vith Kelish accent! Vhen and vhere do you vish to meet up with us again?"

"Indeed, my one and only trip to the "land of the impossible", though to be honest, I myself did not get to experience any of the famed miracles. We where sent in, in a very curious turn of events, to be caught. A ploy that turned out well, and one I have added to my proverbial toolkit. We had mystically marked a few of our items so that when the bandits, after a "hard fight" motioning quotation marks "absconded with them, could be tracked back to their layer."

He pauses for a moment, as if remembering something fondly. "You must understand, back then the Society was small. It still stood for something. Those bandits had kidnapped a group of wizards, torturing them and tormenting their families so that they would work for the bandits to create magical gear. We where able to free them and turn their leader from that path."

Later on, as they continue to walk about the city, Garinol makes sure to poit out the orphanage to the north east, "These rings, sad to say are not that special. I had first learned of them in Nerosyan. These are simply replicas of the ones my own angel, VeeDee and I exchanged, but they allow me to channel some of my soul into a protective ward for a short time, to light our darkest hour."

"You might know that we elves usually take a name that means something to us." the wizard stares into the street, not seeing anything.

"One of our legends that can be traced back to Sovyrian is about a great wizard who created a planet called Faerun. I have been wanting to go to that place since I was a young elf. My name was originally Faerunalduil, as in he who seeks to go to Faerun. It turned out that that is a very difficult name for most humans, so I shortened it a bit. Not that humans have an easy time with my name now."
He smiles, something that you have not seen him doing before.

"Perhaps one day I should introduce you to a young friend of mine, Torrel."

As Lurgh arrived he took a moment to observe the violinist while trying uncomfortably to not set his gaze lingering too long upon the couple lest they accuse him of gawking. The song felt out of place to him as though a lone voice were trying in vain to push back the oppressing gloom of this land. Shaking his head at the perceived futility, he walked on.

When he arrived at Karcau proper, the musical fight against the darkness crescendoed and became a symphony of sound battering against the nearly palpable dreariness. To Lurgh each trill and tickled his ears like a buzzing bee in a field of clover, every legato phrase like a bird taking flight while the glissandi glide like a serpent through the grass. Hundreds of animals of hundreds of kinds rise up playing their part which as a whole begins to irritate Lurgh to the point where something deep stirs inside. The symphony of sound becomes a cacophony of horror. Yet, it's not the scream of the animals he hears and sees in his mind, but it is the people on the street he imagines next, a whole city fleeing in terror as their whole city is engulfed in flames. Pianos alight, strings snapping as the heat increases the tension on the weakened strings. Violins and cellos are reduced to ash. Drums fall silent except for the crackling flames about them. Songs of joy and hope turn to cries of anguish and lament as their patrons mourn their lost wealth and beauty.

Lurgh shakes his head to jar the images from his mind. This was not who he was, not entirely. He drew his cloak around him, feeling the chill in the air more than ever. Lurgh remained utterly silent as the carriage ride continued, as though if he were to open his mouth flames would issue from his maw, be they real or metaphorical. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat when the detour was announced and turned to look out the window rather than at his fellow Pathfinders.

Only after they disembarked from did Lurgh answer the question put to him.

"Yes, I have been here before. Ustalav is a place where no light leaves as it entered for whatever comes shining brightly goes colder and dimmer."

Wisdom: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 2 = 13

Lurgh takes the ring offered to him and puts it on his finger.

After that, Lurgh was content to follow others as they wandered, inasmuch as content and Karcau went together.

"We're stuck here for now Miss Zahra. While I would prefer to go anywhere but here, we are where we must be.

Only after a while does he realize he has not even done the basics of introducing himself to his colleagues. His sour mood hasn't made him very cordial or polite it seems.

"My name is Lurgh at least it was the name given to me. I suppose if I could have had the luxury of choosing my own name, I would have chosen something vastly different, but I am who I am."

"No license required? Thank you, is good to know! Tell me... Vhat or Vhere is this 'Toadstools'? Is it far?"

It does not sound a very pleasant place to be sent.

- pause for guard response -

Once she has directions and an idea of where the urchin went, she returns the others. "Gentlemen, is it alright if ve do slight detour to find the girl? I'm vorried for her. Garinol, do you know vhere this 'Toadstools' is?"

The taller of the two lawmen responds to Zahra, "Aren't you all staying at The Aria? Toadstools' a bit beneath your station, if you don't mind me saying. Cheap place with an open stage. Got a specialty drink there, Frogsper- er, Frogspawn, ma'am."

The one with red hair finishes scratching Pumpkin behind the ears, picks up the ball and tosses it lightly. "Two blocks southwest, then turn left on Marsh Way. You can't miss the sign. Ol' Toddy's a good man."

Later in the day, as the appointed hour approached, Lurgh headed to the theater. No expensive perfumes adorned him. The natural, heavy scent, reminiscent of smouldering coal wafts from him. He wears no valuable jewels or clothing embroidered in gold thread, but simple monk's clothing which showed off the crimson scales over a muscular physique. Looking like he belonged didn't matter to him. In fact, he despised the idea because he knew he didn't belong. All he cared about was being punctual.

After leaving a note with the owner of Toadstools, most of the party wanders the streets of the city, reveling in the abundant music. Only the elf spends his afternoon among the scrolls. After an early dinner, the party retires to their rooms to prepare for their appointment. Together, you cross Blaispear Plaza, approach the innumerable angles of Cloisoi Theater, climb the wide staircase to the building and enter through double-wide doors into the lobby.

The lobby of the Cloisoi Theater is the epitome of aristocratic refinement. Marble statues of noteworthy Ustalavic nobles are on display throughout the room, and the swell of a large orchestra reverberates from the theater beyond. The lobby is empty, save for Venture-Captain Basia Kalistoff, who sits in a velvet chair beneath a large portrait of a young singer. The raven-haired adventurer smooths her dark silk gown, and motions invitingly to several nearby settees. “Thank you for joining me this evening, and welcome to Karcau. As you may know, Pathfinders do not enjoy a kind reputation in Ustalav, and the rather brief command of my cousin Skeldon Miregrold did little to help that before nearly being killed by the dark folk years ago; he murdered, betrayed, and stole from many, and he eventually paid the price for it. I have done what I can since then to convince the locals that we are not murderous, grave-robbing vigilantes.” she says shaking her head at the memory.

“Over the past few months, a rash of disappearances has plagued Karcau. At first the victims were shopkeepers and stable boys—tragic, but easily relegated to the guards to investigate. However, last week someone abducted a noblewoman from this very theater.” Basia Kalistoff gestures to the portrait above her, which features a stunningly beautiful woman with a mass of curly red hair and a mischievous grin. “Olivina Sharnau is the darling of the Karcau theater scene and the heiress to a substantial fortune. Her disappearance has piqued concern among the city’s nobility, and it won’t be long until fingers begin pointing at the Pathfinder Society. My hope is that by solving this mystery ourselves, we’ll be seen as heroes and not suspects. Any evidence you can gather to strengthen our case can only help.”

A thunderous round of applause explodes from beyond the theater’s doors, and Kalistoff raises her voice to be heard above the din. “I recently received a request from Countess Sasandra Livgrace, who inquired about our doing exactly that. She is one of the few and finest nobles who truly trusts the Society, so keeping her vote of confidence—and that of any other noble we can manage—during this investigation is critical. Do you have any questions?”

-

These will be assists if allowed
history(trained): 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7
nobility(trained): 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (19) + 1 = 20

Vrald gestures to the sound behind Basia. "I see the show goes on. I don't suppose there could be any professional rival - a diva who would benefit from her departure from the scene... so to speak?"

He thinks a bit further, then with a respectful bow also asks

"Where did she vanish from? The stage? Her dressing room? Who was the last person to see her?"

As the noise from the other side of the door continues, Vrald stops speaking for a moment or two to let it die down.

"I suppose another question, distasteful as it must be, is to know who will inherit her title, should the countess not be found?"

Aid Another if allowed
Knowledge (history): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (14) + 4 = 18
Knowledge (nobility): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13

Omar listens with interest to Vrald's questions and their answers.

Waiting for a pause, he then asks "Is there reason to hide our affiliation with the society? Are there any people of whom we should be especially wary?"

Vrald and Omar assist on Know(nobility), limit of two reached
Omar assists on Know(history)

Vrald gestures to the sound behind Basia. "I see the show goes on. I don't suppose there could be any professional rival - a diva who would benefit from her departure from the scene... so to speak?"

Kalistoff gestures all around her, "There are any number of would-be stars in the city, but none with the skill and charm to rival Olivina Sharnau. If they were to claim her role now, they would only be resented as a shadow of a fallen star. Even if Olivina were the only victim, I would not suspect such such foul play."

"Where did she vanish from? The stage? Her dressing room? Who was the last person to see her?"

"Olivina was last seen inside the theater. She was likely taken from her dressing room, but I do not know for sure." Kalistoff shakes her head in frustration.

"I suppose another question, distasteful as it must be, is to know who will inherit her title, should the countess not be found?"

Basia laughs kindly and pats Vrald on the arm, "The Countess is not missing dear, she is our patron. We're going to talk to her after the performance."

Waiting for a pause, he then asks "Is there reason to hide our affiliation with the society? Are there any people of whom we should be especially wary?"

The Venture-Captain turns to Omar and sighs, “Skeldon Miregrold’s dirty dealings with the dark folk did little to help the Pathfinders’ cause in Ustalav, but the city distrusted the Society long before his time. The nobility see us as petty grave robbers and troublemakers. After all, many of the artifacts in our vaults once belonged to aristocrats like them. I hate being under their thumbs like this, but we need their support. We must convince them we’re trustworthy. To that end, I ask you show your affiliation proudly and aim to impress, but be wary of everyone you meet.”

Omar smiles, relieved that he doesn't have to hide that he is a pathfinder. "I am glad to hear that we don't have to hide it. The warning to be wary is appreciated as well."

"You said the disappearances have happened over the past few months. Do you know how many have disappeared? Since you say disappeared, am I correct in assuming no bodies have been found?"

Not being one to study either history or noble lineages, Zahra has no thoughts on either.

Still, she has plenty of questions. "I am glad that the noble countess, this 'Sasandra Livgrace' is kind enough to be our patron. But you still have not answered the qvestion of who will inherit Olivina's title and fortune. Also, this Olivina... Someone like this might have had many lovers. Lovers who vere important people, perhaps jealous people? Do you know of any?"

Then she looks down at Pumpkin, affectionately. "Also, vill there be any problem taking a vell-behaved tiger vith us?"

Then she looks at the rings on her hand, and says, "Garinol, I almost forgot. You vere kind enough to give me a ring." She pulls the ring from her hand* and hands it to him. "I vould like to honor you vith vun as vell."

____

* It's a Ring of Tactical Precision, imbued with Zahra's Lookout feat.

The Venture-Captain shakes her head sadly, "No bodies have been recovered. I can't be sure, but at least half a dozen people are missing."

Then Basia turns her gaze to Zahra, her lips pursed, "A woman like Olivina Sharnau has many admirers, but she has not been courting anyone publically. I suspect any evidence of her private affairs would be in her dressing room, in any case."

She speaks slowly to Zahra and Vrald, "Olivina is the only daughter of a wealthy Baron. She has no title or money of her own. She is much more valuable alive."

Kalistoff takes a second look at the large animal, and takes a deep breath, "We've certainly seen stranger creatures on the stage. Some will stare, but trained animals are not exceedingly unusual. Do you have a leash?"

Know History (free aid): 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5
Know Nobility (free aid): 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (13) + 3 = 16

Know History: 1d20 + 3 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 3 + 2 = 20
Know Nobility: 1d20 + 3 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 3 + 2 = 16

"I am somewhat familiar with, or rather her mother. While I strongly believe that Pathfinders should avoid local politics, her disappearance will likely have long term effects as this partnof the nation looses influence. Good or bad for everyone, its hard to say, though I think she, the daughter is known to be fair."

Turning back towards the Venture Captain, as he speaks his robes slowly turning to a light, serene green, "I don't suppose anyone has looked it the theater here, after what happened last time. . ."

Sorry, it seems there is some confusion, so let me reword what I meant with the above.

"I am not familiar with Countess Sasandra Livgrace, though I remember her mother. I generally advocate Pathfinder avoid politics, especially regional politics, Sasandra's absence might have some long term effects if this part of the nation looses influence. From what I've heard, and I could be wrong, Sasandra has a reputation for being fair ruler."

After the Venture Captain answers some of the other questions, most notably. . .

Vrald gestures to the sound behind Basia. "I see the show goes on. I don't suppose there could be any professional rival - a diva who would benefit from her departure from the scene... so to speak?"

Kalistoff gestures all around her, "There are any number of would-be stars in the city, but none with the skill and charm to rival Olivina Sharnau. If they were to claim her role now, they would only be resented as a shadow of a fallen star. Even if Olivina were the only victim, I would not suspect such such foul play."

, Garinol will turn and ask, rather nonchalantly, "I don't suppose anyone has looked it the theater here, after what happened last time. . ."

After allowing enough time to answer, Garinol will then ask the next, rather obvious question, writing down names, dates, places, and details the whole time in his journal, as he always does, "One must wonder, why exactly does a rich, unmarried politician have such an interest in a missing darling-of-the-week? And more importantly, why is Olivina's disappearance not easily relegated to the guards to investigate?"

Looking to Garinol, Omar gently suggests "If it were a simple case, the guards would have already solved it. I do not know about the local guards, but in other areas I have seen guards who were ill-equipped to handle supernatural or magical effects."

No need to mention how politics can also be a barrier. That a noble asked for the Society should be enough of a clue that there are politics in play.

Smiling, he looks to Basia and says "Sometimes we get called in because we have greater freedom to investigate than the guards."

Zahra cocks her head. "Vhat happened last time in the theater, Garinol? Ve have not heard any of these stories!" She looks eager. "Vas there something that might share light on our current mystery?"

"Only that the place is supposed to be haunted. From what I've heard, and I was not present, mind you, " looking at Venture Captain Basia as if to ask why this hadn't been mentioned up front, "there had been a few murders right here, and this theater is believed to be haunted. Perhaps the victims, perhaps whoever did it, I'm not certain."

Early
Garinol accepts Zahra's gift with a bow of his head, placing the ring on his hand, "What meaning does it have, my friend?"

"Perhaps we should investigate her dressing room. Taking in but half the show would probably ruin it for when we have time to appreciate the full thing." suggests Vrald.

"Then, when the show is over, we could meet the countess."

He blushes a little at getting the star and the countess muddled earlier.

Lurgh remains standing so as not to spoil the delicate furniture.

If Skeldon were only facing death I might have left him to his just punishment. But when we found him, it seemed he was being tortured. Such is not right, even for one like him, though I hope he has served a just sentence for his crimes.

Lurgh takes a moment to clear his mind, clearly perturbed by something.

No one cared about people disappearing until it was one of the beautiful people that went missing. Why am I not surprised? If you cannot be certain from where in the theater Olivina was taken, it would have been helpful if the entire theater could have been locked down until an investigation were performed, but I suppose that just wouldn't do. Let's just hope her dressing room hasn't been disturbed recently.

Lurgh kept looking around at the other Pathfinder and occasionally at the exits, clearly not comfortable (or happy) about being around nobility.

"One must wonder, why exactly does a rich, unmarried politician have such an interest in a missing darling-of-the-week?"

Basia Kalistoff's pale face blanches further at the inquisitor's insinuations. She clutches the armrest of her settee and hisses through clenched teeth, "Countess Livgrace is not a politician, she is a ruler. She is responsible for the whole county of Sinaria, and enjoys Karcau as her ancestral seat of power. A high profile young noblewoman has gone missing. Do you think the other nobles hadn't noticed? They are frightened. They feel vulnerable. They are pressuring her to deliver answers, and she has entrusted you to find them. I hope you are not daft enough to insult the Countess to her face, or we might as well board up Miregold Manor and leave Karcau now."

She takes a deep breath and relaxes, "I'm sorry to be so... emphatic. But, I am trying my best to rebuild the city's trust in the Society. Countess Livgrace is attending this performance. That is why we are here, right now. I have arranged for us to meet with her when it concludes so that you might get to know your benefactor, and she you."

She waves her hand toward Garinol, "Oh, every theater is haunted. Have you never heard of opera ghosts? They call the Closoi Theater's resident spook Mad Mad Margaret. Stories about her have been around for ages. I'm not sure that she even exists." She taps her chin thoughtfully,"But if she does, you might be able to find her. She might have witnessed something unusual in the theater that night."

"Then please, milady, lead the way." although even a cursory amount of intuition makes it clear that the priest actually really, really wants to meat this spook, the opera ghost Mad Mad Margaret," You must forgive me, but once of the first lessons we are taught is that "the person being the most helpful. . . tends to be the person that has something they need to hide. And I was only taking a lady's advice,. . . "

"... but be wary of everyone you meet."

Basia's laugh is short, but clear as crystal, one corner of her mouth turns up in a half-smile, "My dear Garinol, you have not met her yet—a deficiency we shall soon correct."

As though she had timed her words, the doors to the theater swing open, and the audience streams out. Scores of the Ustalavic elite bedecked in embroidered silks, bejeweled collars, gold broaches, and colorful sashes emerge, most engaging in lively discussions about the performance. "Did you hear the trumpets during the third movement? Divine!" Many frown, turn up their noses, or flick open lacy fans to conceal looks of distaste as they pass by Basia Kalistoff.

One woman stops the man on her arm and looks your venture-captain over once head-to-toe, then over each of you in turn. Her eyes linger on the clearly uncomfortable half-orc. "Evening, Kalistoff."

The venture-captain begins to politely acknowledge the terse greeting, "Good evening, Maria. Whose after-party are you gracing with your presence this evening...?" but trails off as the woman immediately turns away and engages two other finely-dressed women in an enthusiastic exchange of whispers and laughter as they exit the theater.

Stiffly, she stands and announces, “We have another appointment—one better held in private.” With that she motions for the group to follow, ascends one of the grand staircases, and enters one of the private boxes.

Basia Kalistoff motions toward a regal woman strategically seated where she can watch both her theater box’s entrance and the stage as assistants clean up after the performance. “Allow me to introduce Countess Sasandra Livgrace, ruler of Karcau,” the venture-captain announces softly.

The countess rises and offers her hand in friendship. “I appreciate your and your associates’ willingness to assist in this matter, Basia. Karcau is no stranger to crime, but what has occurred of late goes beyond what the guards can handle. With the recent disappearance of Olivina Sharnau, the citizens have become especially fearful, and if the perpetrators feel they can get away with one high-profile abduction, they will no doubt attempt more. I doubt there is much time before they strike again.” her voice catches and her hand strays to the brooch at her neck.

“Olivina disappeared from this theater only a few nights ago. I have requested that the dressing room she used remain undisturbed until you inspect it, and I have also arranged for you to have access to the theater this evening to conduct your investigation.” Countess Livgrace turns to the venture-captain and offers a gentle smile. “We have other matters to discuss in the meantime, Basia, so perhaps you would be so kind as to introduce me to those to whom I am entrusting my city’s safety.” Basia Kalistoff inclines her head and responds, “They have accomplished so much that I could not do their credentials justice.” She then looks to the assembled agents and adds, “Please be so kind as to introduce yourselves and your qualifications to the Countess Livgrace.”

You might impress the Countess with an anecdote demonstrating your prowess. Please make a Bluff, Diplomacy, or relevant Perform check as you explain what your character has done to earn the respect of the Society or proven themselves a skilled investigator.

Vrald steps forward and bows to the countess.

"Lord Vrald Sehir, of Taldor, at your service."

He pauses for a moment before considering which of his tales to tell, discretion being of paramount importance.

"I have helped out a number of noble families around the inner sea.. The Blackros with some unfortunate incidents at their museum. I helped prevent a disruption at the wedding of the Lady of Silver in Qadira. Slightly more recently I helped prevent a scheme to throw Thuvia into civil war. I would hate to bore you with the details, but I'm sure that with your connections, you will have heard of those tales by now."

diplomacy take ten: 10 + 15 = 25

Trying to avoid providing spoilers, but these relate to Mists of Mwanig, Our Lady of Silver, and Ageless Ambitions scenarios all of which touch on noble families in some way or other.

The mention of Mad Mad Margaret draws Omar's attention. It can be dangerous speaking with spirits, but some have been known to be approachable. If we meet her, I'll have to ask if there is anything we can do to put her soul to rest.

Omar winces slightly as Garinol refuses to let up about the Countess. Being right is no reason to be rude! I can understand why Lurgh may feel the way he does, but I wonder what makes Garinol press this point?

Diplomacy: 10 + 6 = 16

After Vrald finishes his introduction, Omar steps forward and bows to the Countess. "Thank you for the honor of meeting with us, Countess Livgrace. I am Omar Senay, a priest of Shelyn."

Straightening, he gestures briefly to Zahra as he says "My wife and I were recently sent into the Realm of the Mammoth Lords to garner allies. As part of that effort, our group successfully negotiated with two different tribes and destroyed multiple demons that were plaguing the area."

"On another mission, we worked with a different group to track down a prominent scholar who had been kidnapped by pirates. I am very pleased to say we successfully found the pirate base and rescued the scholar!"

Omar pauses for a moment, as if considering his next words carefully.

Knowledge: Nobility: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9

I fear that I do not know if mentioning Thrune would do more harm than good. It can be so difficult to demonstrate discretion since part of that is not talking about any of the details. Best not to mention that at the moment. Still, having paused I best say something more!

Evidently coming to a decision, he adds "We were also part of the group sent to investigate some illegal smuggling in Magnimar. As a result of that investigation, we were able to prevent an attack."