reserved first post
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A slightly dirty gnome snores loudly in the corner of the room. Her head slumps and her hair starts to fall off. She jumps awake and quickly adjusts it before falling off her chair.
"Stupid high chairs." Dusting herself off, she sighs and grabs her pack. "I guess if you're here, then it's time. My name's Acel Odair. Let's make some noise."
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An athletic and shapely tiefling slinks into the room. Walking past Towyn, her tail caresses his shoulder, almost like a hand. Whether the tiefling intended to do this or not is unclear, as she is looking ahead.
Finding a seat, she stretches luxuriously before addressing the others.
"I'm Saarai Shae," she says. "I'll be dealing with scouting, traps, and other stealthy operations. I'm well-equipped to handle a variety of problems," she adds.
Almost as an afterthought, she says:
"I used to be a Taldorian duchess with wealth beyond your wildest imagination...quite the change of events in my life!" she muses quietly as she plays with the tufting of her chair.
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A truly massive, scar-covered, ashy-black-skinned Mwangi man stands uncomfortably in the corner. Everything about him—his primitive weapons, tribal garb suited for steamy climates, lizard-scale mail, engraved animal tooth hanging from his neck, and every fetish and talisman from bone to stone to bright feather—leaves the impression that he just walked directly out of the Bandu jungle and into this room.
He stands stoically in the corner, moving little except when his one good eye—the one not covered by a primitive eye patch—follows every new Pathfinder. Acel and Towyn’s introductions get the subtlest of nods, and Saarai’s title seems to make about as much of an impression on the Mwangi as if it had been delivered in complete gibberish.
Finally, he steps forward, towering over you all and shifting his weight to lean slightly on his spear. ”I am Ma’Huuk.” He speaks Taldan with a deep, quiet voice in the strange cadence of Mwangi jungle-men. ”I hunt. I fight.” He gives a half-grin—mostly just a baring of teeth which stand out starkly against his black skin. ”Where Dreng points, I go, no?”
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"I think I got some idea..." Towyn replied, his smirk constant as he noticed the tail dragging along his shoulder. "My dad's a well-to-do arms merchant here in Absalom. Doted over me like a trophy... though, can you blame him? I mean, look at me, what's not to love?" he asked, holding his hands out as if making some grand presentation. "Also nearly died in a wagon accident, but was saved thanks to some stranger giving my dad a jar of magical blood. Or... something like that. He doesn't like to discuss it. That and me being a Pathfinder. He HATES that." Towyn shrugged his shoulders, utterly brushing past the whole 'near death and magic blood' thing.
Towyn eyed the big brute in the corner speaking up, clasping his hands behind his head and cocking a brow at him. "Uh... n..no? Haven't got a clue who Dreng is. That your spear?" Towyn looked the weapon up and down for a moment, before leaning back on a nearby pillar and chuckling. "Mine's bigger~"
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Up until now, the young Varasian has stood silently in the corner... observing as that is her way. But listening to his boast, Faellynn looks the human male who calls himself Towyn up a down a minute, then crosses the room and stands beside him, smiling. Placing her hand gently on his shoulder she leans in and stares in his eyes, and then turns her gaze upon his lap for a moment. Looking back into his eyes, a broad grin overcomes her.
She stands and turns to Ma'Huuk, "Nope... I'm guessing yours is bigger." She looks to Acel then Saarai winking at both the women. With a gasping sigh, she saunters back to her corner and leans back again.
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Ma’Huuk frowns at the smaller man, then up at the pillar, but he’s saved from having to mount a verbal defense by the fire-haired Varisian.
”HA!” he booms as he turns a feral grin back on Towyn, then bangs his spear's butt on the room's floor in a quick series. ”This woman. She speaks the truth, no?”
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"...nnnnno." Towyn replies, still smirking, completely unfazed by Varisian girl's comment. "As they say, you can speak softly if you've got a big stick... or something like that. And with a stick like mine, I don't have to say a word~ But enough about my sword." he said, patting the blade at his waist.
Towyn looked about as quirked an eyebrow. "So, uh... anybody know where the Venture Captain is? I thought they wanted us ready and paperwork submitted in triplicate before even thinking about going out."
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A half-elf garbed in new adventuring gear, or fresh oil on his weapons, stands waiting for his first briefing.
"I am Omar Posada, Skald and Society initiate reporting. Sorry I am late.
I was sent by VC Hugo to this as my second mission.
He leans his naginata in the corner and inspects his lute while listening for the briefing.
Seated behind a large, antique desk in his wood-paneled office, Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin looks up from the pile of papers before him and shuffles them to one side. “Perfect timing! Welcome Pathfinders! I had an interesting conversation with the Master of Spells Aram Zey yesterday. An old friend—Lady Darchana, Archdean of the Arcanamirium here in Absalom—contacted Master Zey. She’s a councilmember on the Low Council, too. It seems her dinner party last week had an unexpected guest: a handmaiden of her fancy guest’s had picked up a scrying sensor somewhere. When Lady Darchana learned that someone was attempting to eavesdrop on her party, she used her magic to trace the sensor back to its source. It sounds as though she didn’t learn anything conclusive, and she’s interested in bringing in an independent party to try and learn more. Master Zey agrees.”
“Make no mistake, this is an excellent opportunity for you to impress a well-connected friend of the Society. Lady Darchana requested that the Pathfinders call upon her at her estate in the Petal District once they learn something of the origins of this servant. The owner of the handmaiden is named Lady Silviana Dimora. Lady Silviana isn’t a councilmember or the like—at least not yet. From what I understand, though, she is an upand-comer who is rubbing elbows with all of the right people, and she likely has little knowledge of where the slave was purchased. I recommend speaking to her majordomo Milana about the handmaiden, or you can pay a visit to her solicitor, a Chelish fellow named Salbus over in the Coins. Questions?”
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Towyn listen quietly as the Venture-Captain explained the situation. Wow... Lady Darchana herself, huh? I think our family's done some business with her fairly recently. Purchase of a rare magical sword he'd lucked onto... or something like that. Man... I'm actually curious to know how dad will react to this. he thought, running a hand through his hair.
"Chelish? Figures... out of curiosity, how lenient are we allowed to be in... extracting info out of Salbus?" Towyn didn't have any preconceived notions about Chelish folks... but the majority he'd spoken with, even here in the Society, had been folks one didn't enjoy brushing up against. In any form.
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The mwangi listens intensely, a scowl of concentration darkening his features. He wears this same focused scowl until the word ‘slave’ … at which point the scowl darkens further. The big man seems curious about the answer to Towyn's question of their methods, and frowns doubtfully at Omar's suggestion that this is better than a trip through sewers or towers.
”So, we are to …” he struggles to find the right word, ”investigate this scrying sensor?” He looks from VC Valsin to his teammates, ”Tell me. This thing. This scrying sensor. Does it hurt the slave?”
It doesn't take much to note that talk of slavery aggravates Ma'Huuk.
"Chelish? Figures... out of curiosity, how lenient are we allowed to be in... extracting info out of Salbus?" Towyn didn't have any preconceived notions about Chelish folks... but the majority he'd spoken with, even here in the Society, had been folks one didn't enjoy brushing up against. In any form.
"Sound like a cush mission. Better than slogging through some forgotten sewer or musty tower full of bugs. A grand opportunity. Afterall, how hard can it be to find a servant? Do we have a detailed description or name of the servant should her mistress not want to cooperate?"
Ambrus frowns slightly at the mens’ questions, rubbing his forehead with one hand as if to massage away a migraine.
I assure you this matter is not so simple as locating the slave. There is more at work here than mere espionage. And as for the...intensity of your methods, remember that you are Pathfinders and represent our Society. With the importance of the individuals involved, I expect a certain level of discretion, especially when dealing with a man running a legal, however distasteful, business.
He looks back down at his papers as if the matter is concluded, but adds quietly: Of course, you must do what you feel is right, and I’m sure the man won’t miss one or two teeth all that much.
He smiles at his own jest, still not looking up from his paperwork.
Lady Darchana of House Madinani is the archdean of the Arcanamirium, the most prestigious magical university in the city of Absalom. A wizard of great power, she also holds one of the lesser seats on the Grand Council of Absalom, and the title of second spell lord
With your knowledge of the city and some input from Venture Captain Valsin, it is a small matter to find the location of Lady Silviana Dimora's estate. An 8-foot-high fieldstone wall surrounds it, guarded by a middle-aged man with a sour expression on his face who asks curtly: What business do you have here?
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Towyn nods, shrugging slightly. "I'll try." was all he could manage to respond back with. "I guess we're off to see the majordomo. Let's get rolling, hm?"
Arriving at the gate, Towyn smiled his usual smirk at the guard, bowing his head politely. Seems this was nothing new. "Greetings, sir. Name's Towyn Deltor. Here on behalf of the Pathfinders to meet with Lady Dimora. I don't suppose you'd be kind enough to let her know we're here, would you?"
You suppose right, and I ain't kind enough, but she'll show you in. He gestures to a female servant who avoids eye contact as she leads you through the grounds.
The grounds are recently tended with thick, soft grass, several well-placed shade trees, and many species of flowering plants. Directly in front of the manor house is a pond with several large lilies and a lion-shaped marble fountain that bubbles gently.
Please wait here, the girl says, entreating you to relax in a parlor furnished with plush blue couches and chairs.
A short time later, a stern-looking woman with dark brown hair and hazel eyes appears.
My sincerest apologies, but Lady Silviana is unable to take unscheduled meetings at this time. If you wish, you can schedule a meeting for the near future, but I'm afraid I must ask you to leave so I may return to my duties...
That's all well and good, but Lady Silviana really is not here.
She takes a seat with you and continues.
The best I can do it sit here in her stead and listen to your request to relay to her at a later time. So, what do you require?
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"Very good.
Lady Silviana Dimora is well served. Are you Milana? It has come to the attention of certain high level personages that a servant from this estate in attendace of a party had extra magical scrying upon her person. Our sponsors want to know who and why. We were hopeful you may know something that may help in our incvestigation. As you can see, it will also benefit your liege as well to uncover the source.
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Towyn seems to chew at his tongue a little, before glancing towards Saarai and making a motion with his eyes, as if to say 'Maybe you should have a look around?' Once certain she got his intent, he pulled out the classy smile and grabbed a seat across from the woman.
"Your name, siren. I presume one of your duties is tending to guests? Then in that case, I am ever so pleased to say that your duty is now me." he schmoozed, hoping to keep her focus occupied as he scooted his chair closer. "And please tell me it's 'Miss' Siren, and not 'Missus' Siren. You'll simply break my heart."
Towyn seems to chew at his tongue a little, before glancing towards Saarai and making a motion with his eyes, as if to say 'Maybe you should have a look around?' Once certain she got his intent, he pulled out the classy smile and grabbed a seat across from the woman.
"Your name, siren. I presume one of your duties is tending to guests? Then in that case, I am ever so pleased to say that your duty is now me." he schmoozed, hoping to keep her focus occupied as he scooted his chair closer. "And please tell me it's 'Miss' Siren, and not 'Missus' Siren. You'll simply break my heart."
[dice=Bluff]1d20+3
The woman sits back erect in her chair, recoiling from the words as though they’d been a punch. After the initial shock wears off a flush of red appears on her cheeks as she stammers out a reply: It’s Milana...and it’s Miss, if you must know, you scamp. I thought you were here for serious purposes. Despite the harshness of her words, the tone is light with no true hint of a rebuke. A smile even plays about her lips for a moment.
"Very good.
It has come to the attention of certain high level personages that a servant from this estate in attendace of a party had extra magical scrying upon her person. Our sponsors want to know who and why. We were hopeful you may know something that may help in our incvestigation. As you can see, it will also benefit your liege as well to uncover the source.
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Milana shakes her head, touching her hand to her forehead. Yes, Lady Darchana’s dinner party. What an embarrassment for Lady Silviana. Can you imagine being told that your handmaiden is some sort of… well… spy? Dreadful. The woman’s name is Atlag, and she has been here for almost three weeks! Three weeks! When I think of the private conversations that happened in front of Atlag? It makes me ill, honestly ill.
Composing herself, Milana continues, “Lady Silviana retains a solicitor, a Chelish gentleman named Solvius Salbus. He works out of an office in the Coins called the Red Letter. He drew up the paperwork for my Lady to complete the transaction on Atlag with a man named...”
She wags her pointer finger a few times, shaking her head as she tries to recall the name. “Mahdi Mahjub. No, Mahjub Mahdi! He does his business down in Misery Row, of course. It’s a small shop with several large windows to allow passersby to see into his display parlor from the street. ‘Mahdi’s Chattel: Absalom’s Finest,’ so the sign claims. Honestly, I think every third building in Misery Row claims to be ‘Absalom’s Finest.’ I wonder how many spies like Atlag he’s sold over the years? It’s a dreadful, dreadful business. I am not sure there is anything else I can tell you, but I am sure you understand my Lady’s desire to move on from this embarrassment? Good? Yes? Thank you.”
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Shadowing the group, Ma’Huuk watches first middle-aged door guard then the girl with an inscrutable stare. When they are invited to sit on the small, colorful couches, the big man frowns down at them as if they might bite … and remains standing. During the interview, he watches the small woman, looking for signs of deception.
When an opportunity presents itself, Ma’Huuk steps forward. ”So your ….” his scowl deepens, ”… employer is saying she is embarrassed by this sensor. And she knew nothing of it? It would simplify things for her if she would speak with us directly. Does your employer know how to craft such sensors herself?”
Shadowing the group, Ma’Huuk watches first middle-aged door guard then the girl with an inscrutable stare. When they are invited to sit on the small, colorful couches, the big man frowns down at them as if they might bite … and remains standing. During the interview, he watches the small woman, looking for signs of deception.
[dice=Sense Motive]1d20 + 2
When an opportunity presents itself, Ma’Huuk steps forward. ”So your ….” his scowl deepens, ”… employer is saying she is embarrassed by this sensor. And she knew nothing of it? It would simplify things for her if she would speak with us directly. Does your employer know how to craft such sensors herself?”
The sight of the muscled, spear-wielding man gives the woman pause, but she answers matter-of-factly: Lady Silviana? She possesses no talents in the arcane, and it was her slave that was being scryed upon by some outside force. If Lady Darchana weren't attending, I doubt anyone would have discovered the scrying.
Ma'Huuk nods. "Where is this Atlag now? If she is here, we will speak to her."
Milana nods, motioning for you to follow her.
She comes to a room with a closed door, produces a key, and unlocks it. She waves you inside and remains by the threshold.
She is sequestered here until we can determine her level of involvement. I'm afraid I must remain here while you speak with her, and request that you keep this meeting brief.
Inside the sparsely decorated, yet clean, room is a woman who sits with her back to the door. She turns around at your entrance.