A Game of Kingmaker

Game Master Wandering Wastrel

DATE: 16 Arodus (VIII) 4719
KINGDOM TURN 3

PROCLAMATIONS I MAPS I ADMIN I RULERSHIP


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MAPS: FoP I Kingmaker

MID-WINTER, 4718

It has been several weeks since you applied as one of the hopefuls vying to be awarded a charter to explore and map the Stolen Lands. Whatever your motivation, and whether you see this as a potential meal ticket or simply a way of escaping your current situation, today you were summoned for a final interview with the Mayor and some of the more senior Sword-Lords of Restov. On its completion, you were given the happy news that you have been accepted. Immediately afterwards, you were each given a stipend of 50 gold pieces, an invitation to the Mayor’s New Year Ball, and the opportunity to meet the fellow members of your group, who have also been awarded the charter. These will be your companions for the next however-many-months, so it pays to get to know them now…

Dot! I will leave the exact nature of those interactions to you - this is an opportunity to establish your character and develop a group dynamic

You also have some money to go on a last-minute shopping expedition for anything you forgot/couldn’t afford in your character generation


Female CG Human (Taldan) Cleric 4 | HP: 45/45 | AC: 19 (11 Tch, 18 Fl) | CMB: +4, CMD: 15 | F: +6, R: +3, W: +10 (+2 vs. mind-affecting, +4 vs. poison) | Init: +1 | Perc: +4, SM: +12  | Speed 20 ft | Adoration 7/7 (DC 16), Elysium's Call 7/7 | Channel Energy 7/7 | Active conditions: None | Apperance

"In Cayden's name, a round of drinks on the house!"

Raquel basked in the adulation of the cheering crowd as she poured mug after mug of ale. She pressed her lips to each one and gave a prayer of thanks to the Drunken God for granting her a bit of his own luck. After all, she had been chosen to explore the Stolen Lands!

It's not that she didn't enjoy her job here in Restov. Brewing drinks and singing tavern tunes was the idyllic dream of most Caydenites, but she could feel the political tension in the town approaching a tipping point. The people of Brevoy were her people, no matter how much she might try to deny her heritage. She was ready to show them that she had more to give.

Those heavy thoughts could wait until after the inevitable hangover passed, though. Tonight was about celebration! She made her way to each table, delivering the drinks with a warm smile.

Raquel would like to buy 2 scrolls of cure light wounds with the stipend. Handy in a pinch!


Male NG Human (Taldan) Bard (Court Bard) 5 | HP: 40/40 | AC: 19 (14 Tch, 15 Fl) | CMB: +3, CMD: 17 | F: +2, R: +9, W: +5 | Init: +4 | Perc: -1, SM: +13[/ooc | Speed 30ft | [ooc]Performance: 14/14 | Spells: 1st 5/5 2nd 3/3 | Active conditions: None.

Would it be possible to spend that 50gp plus the 24gp I have left to 'upgrade' Tristan's violin to masterwork? I always envisioned him with a fancy, decorated instrument, and he would certainly have begged to keep it when they took the rest of his stuff as it would be his most prized possession.

As forays into the wilderness went, ones that started with a prestigious ball were definitely Tristan's favorite sort. He still had scant clue why the judge had offered this as an option for his... indiscretions. She had seemed to hold little but disdain for the young bard and the entire manner in which he lived his life.

Tristan mulled the situation as he chatted with the stylish personages who attended the New Year Ball. He was wearing the finest clothing left to him and doing his best to make sure the other guests enjoyed his company - though many of them turned up their noses at speaking to him (or even acknowledging his existence). Especially those allied to House Lebeda and House Uille, whose blood the bard had spilled.

"Three years that ponce's blood has been dry, and every possible authority has declared it an honest mistake. I made my apologies - sincerely! I never meant to end him. Give them this: Nobles certainly know how to hold a grudge."

Several of those more inclined to be friendly to him asked the circumstances that put a Brevic charter in his hand. Each time he asked, he wove a new tall tale. Each had a hint of truth in it, but left out the most important detail: that he had precisely no clue. The tales were obviously just that, so that none would walk away thinking they had been told the truth and yet still be entertained by the reason they'd been given.

He catches sight of the Caydenite as she hands mugs of ale to cheering attendees, and angles her way. Then he sees that pin that marks her as one of his destined companions. He raises the mug she hands him high.

"A toast!" he declares. "To the traveled roads, and the places we'll dwell; To inspired odes and the tales we'll tell!"


Female CG Human (Taldan) Cleric 4 | HP: 45/45 | AC: 19 (11 Tch, 18 Fl) | CMB: +4, CMD: 15 | F: +6, R: +3, W: +10 (+2 vs. mind-affecting, +4 vs. poison) | Init: +1 | Perc: +4, SM: +12  | Speed 20 ft | Adoration 7/7 (DC 16), Elysium's Call 7/7 | Channel Energy 7/7 | Active conditions: None | Apperance

Raquel clinks her mug against Tristan's and downs her drink. "Hear, hear!" she cries.

"I'm Raquel. Pleased to make your acquaintance. It seems we'll be getting to know each other rather well in the days ahead."


Male LG Human (Brevan) Paladin 4 | HP: 65/65 | AC: 21 (11 Tch, 20 Fl) | CMB: +9, CMD: 21 | F: +9, R: +5, W: +7 | Init: +1 | Perc: +0, SM: +8 | Speed 20ft | Smite Evil 2/2 | Lay on Hands 4/4 | Spells: 1st 2/2 | Active conditions: None. Appearance

The tall Orlovsky scion strolled about the ball with clear intent: to seek out his companions and to thank the mayor responsible for sponsoring their charter. The latter he accomplishes within minutes. Aivar finds it to be an absolute necessity for appearance's sake, for they bestowed upon him and his companions a gift and responsibility. Showing gratitude helps to establish a proper report and that, he knows, is valuable. Speak kind words when given the opportunity. They may be discarded, but more people than you might imagine are susceptible to honest flattery and good manners. It is during times like these that the memory of his father and the words the man had spoken to him were ever close by.

The former, however, seems to require a bit more effort from Aivar. The ongoing festivities had somehow managed to throw the crowd to various parts and corners of the sizable room and, as mugs are raised, a third person bearing that much-coveted pin joins the celebrations. "I hope you don't mind if I join in? Aivar is the name, Aivar Kurisyl Orlovsky. It seems we, from this day on, are to be companions."

Aivar will use 8 out of those 50 gold pieces to buy himself a Cold-Weather Outfit. I'll have to think on what to do with the remaining gold.


Female NG Human (Brevan) Investigator 4/Brawler 1 | HP: 51/51 | AC: 24 (13 Tch, 21 Fl) | CMB: +7, CMD: 19 | F: +5, R: +9, W: +4; +2 vs poison | Init: +2 | Perc: +7, SM: +7 | Speed 20ft | Inspiration 5/5 | Extracts: 1st 3/4, 2nd 0/2; Flex 4/4 | Active conditions: Ablative Barrier, Shield

Getting a compass, a journal, and a shortbow with the stipend, plus 1 gp from her own funds for 20 arrows

It's difficult to use the word 'nice' to describe Arianna's clothes, but they are certainly less-patched than her travelling clothes. Her dress is cotton, her cloak is wool, and her hair is relatively tamed. She observes the attendees and follows the example to make up for her clothes; pleasant smile, chin high, but not too high, else she comes across like an upstart. She drinks a little, not a lot. It's still enough to make her murmur a drinking song that was absolutely not appropriate for rubbing shoulders with the upper crust.

She meanders across the chamber to where she sees others coming together to make nice. "Is this where the party is happening?" she says. "I'm Arianna Wending, it's a pleasure."


Female CG Human (Taldan) Cleric 4 | HP: 45/45 | AC: 19 (11 Tch, 18 Fl) | CMB: +4, CMD: 15 | F: +6, R: +3, W: +10 (+2 vs. mind-affecting, +4 vs. poison) | Init: +1 | Perc: +4, SM: +12  | Speed 20 ft | Adoration 7/7 (DC 16), Elysium's Call 7/7 | Channel Energy 7/7 | Active conditions: None | Apperance

"Aye, the party's here! There's plenty of ale to go around, friends. Join us!" The cleric hands mugs to the newcomers. She wears a simple homespun brown dress with a wine-red sash, and her holy symbol dangles from her neck. "I'm Raquel Cailean, and the pleasure is all of ours to share."

Actually, I will buy one scroll and a cold weather outfit, and save the rest of the gold. ;)


Male NG Human (Taldan) Bard (Court Bard) 5 | HP: 40/40 | AC: 19 (14 Tch, 15 Fl) | CMB: +3, CMD: 17 | F: +2, R: +9, W: +5 | Init: +4 | Perc: -1, SM: +13[/ooc | Speed 30ft | [ooc]Performance: 14/14 | Spells: 1st 5/5 2nd 3/3 | Active conditions: None.

"Tristan Aislin," he acknowledges himself to the rest. "A pleasure, and an honor. At least, until you lot start getting on my nerves," Tristan concludes with a wink.


♀ NG Elven Wizard (Conjuror) 5 | HP: 13/35| AC: 17 (13 Tch, 14 Fl) | CMB +1 CMD 14 | F: +2, R: +5, W: +6 | Init +3 | Perc +12(15), SM +1 | Speed 30 ft | Active Conditions: None | Appearance

Using the money to scribe some scrolls, two level 1 Sleep scrolls. Have a feeling those will come in handy.

As if almost floating, Nariel made her way to the ball. Like so many of the previous court affairs she had attended in Brevoy as member of the Lebeda retinue, she had made sure to dress the part. Her dress was an airy flowing piece that flowed from a high neckline and onward down to her feet. It was pale green in color, and clearly chosen to compliment her eye color.

Glancing about the room, Nariel made sure to take account of the various nobles and councilmen in attendance. Finally after a few moments, her eyes laid to rest on a group that all bore the same pin as herself.

It would appear that my future travel companions have found one another. Approaching the group, Nariel curtsied respectfully and introduced herself "Quel undome. It appears our fates are to be woven together." While accepting a mug of ale gratiously, Nariel took only a perfunctory sip and smiled "The pleasure of your acquaitaince is mine; I am Narièl Laeric."

Quel undome = Elven translation "Good evening."


Male LG Human (Brevan) Paladin 4 | HP: 65/65 | AC: 21 (11 Tch, 20 Fl) | CMB: +9, CMD: 21 | F: +9, R: +5, W: +7 | Init: +1 | Perc: +0, SM: +8 | Speed 20ft | Smite Evil 2/2 | Lay on Hands 4/4 | Spells: 1st 2/2 | Active conditions: None. Appearance

Aivar tries not to blink when Narièl joins the get-together of companions-to-be. The effort, in turn, causes him to stare for the briefest of moments. An elf? Surely the Lords have grand plans indeed if one of the long-lived is to be part of this expedition. One thing hasn't changed though: no one but Aivar has introduced him- or herself with a surname indicating a degree of rank and or station. Perhaps Aivar's knowledge simply isn't up to snuff.

"How wonderful to have you join us, Narièl and Arianna. Surely this day is a most fortuitous one." The elf could feel how the man tries to make the name roll off his tongue with grace, but the untrained Brevan mouth couldn't quite manage to do so. Perhaps one day. "Unless I am mistaken, we are still one person short?"


♀ NG Elven Wizard (Conjuror) 5 | HP: 13/35| AC: 17 (13 Tch, 14 Fl) | CMB +1 CMD 14 | F: +2, R: +5, W: +6 | Init +3 | Perc +12(15), SM +1 | Speed 30 ft | Active Conditions: None | Appearance

With a gentle smile, Nariel laughed lightly as Aivar grappled with her elven name pronunciation. To most human cultures, the elven tongue seemed very melodic in nature, but could also be challenging. As such, she never held it against people.

Nodding at Aivar's inquiry, Nariel added "You are correct Aivar, from my recollection there should be six of us." Nariel raised an eyebrow with a light grin, usually she herself was the one that was fashionably late.


Female NG Human (Brevan) Investigator 4/Brawler 1 | HP: 51/51 | AC: 24 (13 Tch, 21 Fl) | CMB: +7, CMD: 19 | F: +5, R: +9, W: +4; +2 vs poison | Init: +2 | Perc: +7, SM: +7 | Speed 20ft | Inspiration 5/5 | Extracts: 1st 3/4, 2nd 0/2; Flex 4/4 | Active conditions: Ablative Barrier, Shield

Arianna quietly swirls her drink in the cup as Nariel introduces herself. "Yes, yes. Hold on, just a moment, Aislin, you said?" She frowns. "Where have I heard that name before? I know I have, hm...wait." She has a funny expression on her face as it comes back to her. "You...I don't suppose, you aren't the one who--" She draws a finger across her throat. "That little lordling Uille?"


Male NG Human (Taldan) Bard (Court Bard) 5 | HP: 40/40 | AC: 19 (14 Tch, 15 Fl) | CMB: +3, CMD: 17 | F: +2, R: +9, W: +5 | Init: +4 | Perc: -1, SM: +13[/ooc | Speed 30ft | [ooc]Performance: 14/14 | Spells: 1st 5/5 2nd 3/3 | Active conditions: None.
Narièl Laeric wrote:
"Quel undome. It appears our fates are to be woven together."

In Elven: "Then may the cloth be comfortable," Tristan replies happily in the Elvish tongue. He rarely had occasion to use the language.

Arianna wrote:
"You...I don't suppose, you aren't the one who--" She draws a finger across her throat. "That little lordling Uille?"

Tristan drops his smile in exchange for a somber nod. "I'm afraid I am, yes. An unfortunate accident during a duel of honor. May his spirit forgive me," Tristan says, lifting his mug and draining it.

Perhaps the dead lad's ghost is less spiteful than his living kin.


Female CG Human (Taldan) Cleric 4 | HP: 45/45 | AC: 19 (11 Tch, 18 Fl) | CMB: +4, CMD: 15 | F: +6, R: +3, W: +10 (+2 vs. mind-affecting, +4 vs. poison) | Init: +1 | Perc: +4, SM: +12  | Speed 20 ft | Adoration 7/7 (DC 16), Elysium's Call 7/7 | Channel Energy 7/7 | Active conditions: None | Apperance

Raquel quickly refills Tristan's mug. "We all make mistakes, but it's important that we don't let them define us. Your life is a series of moments, and as long as the good ones bad, then Pharasma will look favorably upon you when you finally stand before her. But with luck, that won be for many years yet to come!"

She offers Nariel an ale in greeting.


Male LG Human (Brevan) Paladin 4 | HP: 65/65 | AC: 21 (11 Tch, 20 Fl) | CMB: +9, CMD: 21 | F: +9, R: +5, W: +7 | Init: +1 | Perc: +0, SM: +8 | Speed 20ft | Smite Evil 2/2 | Lay on Hands 4/4 | Spells: 1st 2/2 | Active conditions: None. Appearance

An unfortunate accident? Begging a spirit for forgiveness? Aivar's brow furrows in response, but he refuses to comment. The man's transgressions are clearly a thing of the past or surely he wouldn't be present here?


Female NG Human (Brevan) Investigator 4/Brawler 1 | HP: 51/51 | AC: 24 (13 Tch, 21 Fl) | CMB: +7, CMD: 19 | F: +5, R: +9, W: +4; +2 vs poison | Init: +2 | Perc: +7, SM: +7 | Speed 20ft | Inspiration 5/5 | Extracts: 1st 3/4, 2nd 0/2; Flex 4/4 | Active conditions: Ablative Barrier, Shield

Arianna swirls her drink again. "So the story about you taking his head off with a dueling sword is just gossip, then?"


Male NG Human (Taldan) Bard (Court Bard) 5 | HP: 40/40 | AC: 19 (14 Tch, 15 Fl) | CMB: +3, CMD: 17 | F: +2, R: +9, W: +5 | Init: +4 | Perc: -1, SM: +13[/ooc | Speed 30ft | [ooc]Performance: 14/14 | Spells: 1st 5/5 2nd 3/3 | Active conditions: None.

Just so. And sloppy story-telling, to boot. Obviously I don't have the kind of muscle to take somebody's head off without an inordinate amount of sawing. You'd need to be the size of... well, this one, I suppose," Tristan says as he nods to Aivar.


Male LG Human (Brevan) Paladin 4 | HP: 65/65 | AC: 21 (11 Tch, 20 Fl) | CMB: +9, CMD: 21 | F: +9, R: +5, W: +7 | Init: +1 | Perc: +0, SM: +8 | Speed 20ft | Smite Evil 2/2 | Lay on Hands 4/4 | Spells: 1st 2/2 | Active conditions: None. Appearance

Aivar shudders at the thought of doing such a horrible thing. "This one has spent many hours a day on training to ensure he's in great physical shape, but you have my thanks, I do accept the praise and the vote of confidence."

The last words are accompanied by a cheeky wink. "Arianna, I think Tristan speaks the truth because one would need to land a masterful blow with a high-quality blade with quite a bit of strength to accomplish such a thing ... by accident."

The Orlovsky then wrinkles his nose in an effort to fight off the memories of bandits, thugs and other low-lives whose execution he was forced to witness. Steel yourself, son, for this never becomes any easier. No amount of fear will keep a man from stealing a loaf of bread if he's hungry. If only they'd learn. It definitely was time for another drink and a change of topic.


Female LN Human (Brevan) Unchained rogue (consigliere) 4 | HP: 27/36 | AC: 17 (14 Tch, 13 Fl) | CMB: +3, CMD: 14 | F: +3, R: +8, W: +3 | Init: +3 | Perc: +8, SM: +8 | Speed 30ft | SA: 0/0 | Spells: 0/0 | Active conditions: None.

"That would be quite a sight," Sasha offers, gliding into the conversation with practiced ease. The young woman wears a pair of leather riding pants and a dark blue tunic, her dark hair put up in a bun. For ease of access, a rapier hangs low on her hip.

"Sasha Yezhov," she mentions with a grin. "Are you still pouring?"


Female CG Human (Taldan) Cleric 4 | HP: 45/45 | AC: 19 (11 Tch, 18 Fl) | CMB: +4, CMD: 15 | F: +6, R: +3, W: +10 (+2 vs. mind-affecting, +4 vs. poison) | Init: +1 | Perc: +4, SM: +12  | Speed 20 ft | Adoration 7/7 (DC 16), Elysium's Call 7/7 | Channel Energy 7/7 | Active conditions: None | Apperance

"Until the ale runs out!" Raquel matches Sasha's grin as she slides her a mug.

"Hail, hail! The gang's all here!"


Female CG Human (Taldan) Cleric 4 | HP: 45/45 | AC: 19 (11 Tch, 18 Fl) | CMB: +4, CMD: 15 | F: +6, R: +3, W: +10 (+2 vs. mind-affecting, +4 vs. poison) | Init: +1 | Perc: +4, SM: +12  | Speed 20 ft | Adoration 7/7 (DC 16), Elysium's Call 7/7 | Channel Energy 7/7 | Active conditions: None | Apperance

"So, since we all are going to be working together, we should discuss what sort of skills we each bring to the table. As for me, I am a cleric of Cayden Cailean--if you hadn't guessed already. I'll tend any wounds you might acquire during our adventures, and I know a thing or two about getting along in the wild. Oh, and I sing!" Raquel giggles, the alcohol starting to go to her head.


Female LN Human (Brevan) Unchained rogue (consigliere) 4 | HP: 27/36 | AC: 17 (14 Tch, 13 Fl) | CMB: +3, CMD: 14 | F: +3, R: +8, W: +3 | Init: +3 | Perc: +8, SM: +8 | Speed 30ft | SA: 0/0 | Spells: 0/0 | Active conditions: None.

Sasha takes a hearty pull from her tankard, although she'd never cared for ale. That's what this crowd, her new companions, were drinking, so it's what she would drink as well.

"I can sing as well, but I must confess no real talent for it," she jokes. "I am a merchant by trade, so my skill lies in knowing people. Don't worry though, I'm not some pampered New Stetven lady."

To emphasize the point, she pats the hilt of her rapier, stylized to look like a dragon's claw clutching a polished stone of red glass.

Sasha is trying to deemphasize her other talents, particularly that she's also a trained thug and burglar.


Male LG Human (Brevan) Paladin 4 | HP: 65/65 | AC: 21 (11 Tch, 20 Fl) | CMB: +9, CMD: 21 | F: +9, R: +5, W: +7 | Init: +1 | Perc: +0, SM: +8 | Speed 20ft | Smite Evil 2/2 | Lay on Hands 4/4 | Spells: 1st 2/2 | Active conditions: None. Appearance

Aivar quite openly inspects the rapier and nods his approval. "A priest and a merchant? I'm feeling quite pedestrian in your company, I must admit." The statement is followed by him beaming a soft smile at his new companions. "I am an envoy by trade and so am equally trained in the use of word and sword. While I dabble in religious in my private life, I cannot claim the same .. ordainedness? .. as Raquel. For what it is worth, I can handle a lute and after some liquid encouragement, sing, but I am sure my talents pale in comparison to those of you."

For what it is worth: it might be worth it to invest in a cold weather outfit. Perhaps the DM can inform us towards the current temperatures/climate? :)


Female CG Human (Taldan) Cleric 4 | HP: 45/45 | AC: 19 (11 Tch, 18 Fl) | CMB: +4, CMD: 15 | F: +6, R: +3, W: +10 (+2 vs. mind-affecting, +4 vs. poison) | Init: +1 | Perc: +4, SM: +12  | Speed 20 ft | Adoration 7/7 (DC 16), Elysium's Call 7/7 | Channel Energy 7/7 | Active conditions: None | Apperance

"Ordainedness? Ordainedosity? Ordainedhood?" Raquel mulls the words over before shrugging.


Female NG Human (Brevan) Investigator 4/Brawler 1 | HP: 51/51 | AC: 24 (13 Tch, 21 Fl) | CMB: +7, CMD: 19 | F: +5, R: +9, W: +4; +2 vs poison | Init: +2 | Perc: +7, SM: +7 | Speed 20ft | Inspiration 5/5 | Extracts: 1st 3/4, 2nd 0/2; Flex 4/4 | Active conditions: Ablative Barrier, Shield

"You aren't quite as dedicated to the cloth," Arianna suggests. "Nevertheless, my specialties lay far from that. I guess you could call me a scholar, though I've dabbled in alchemy as well."


Male NG Human (Taldan) Bard (Court Bard) 5 | HP: 40/40 | AC: 19 (14 Tch, 15 Fl) | CMB: +3, CMD: 17 | F: +2, R: +9, W: +5 | Init: +4 | Perc: -1, SM: +13[/ooc | Speed 30ft | [ooc]Performance: 14/14 | Spells: 1st 5/5 2nd 3/3 | Active conditions: None.

As the others discuss their professions, Tristan begins to feel... outclassed. It was a new experience for him.

"I sing. And play the violin," he says quietly, speaking into his mug.


Male LG Human (Brevan) Paladin 4 | HP: 65/65 | AC: 21 (11 Tch, 20 Fl) | CMB: +9, CMD: 21 | F: +9, R: +5, W: +7 | Init: +1 | Perc: +0, SM: +8 | Speed 20ft | Smite Evil 2/2 | Lay on Hands 4/4 | Spells: 1st 2/2 | Active conditions: None. Appearance

Curiously Aivar eyes Tristan, but his lips refrain from releasing any comments. Instead, they touch the mug and sip down the last of its contents. Yet we've already established you're an accomplished duelist. What's next, you can weave magicks using sing and song?

"It seems we have a little bit of everything amongst us. The divine, the arcane and the spoken word supported by blade, rapier and the sharp mind." He then inadvertently grins, smiling sheepishly while raising a hand as if to apologize. "And, perhaps more importantly, with our combined talents at sing and song, no campfire should ever be boring."


Female CG Human (Taldan) Cleric 4 | HP: 45/45 | AC: 19 (11 Tch, 18 Fl) | CMB: +4, CMD: 15 | F: +6, R: +3, W: +10 (+2 vs. mind-affecting, +4 vs. poison) | Init: +1 | Perc: +4, SM: +12  | Speed 20 ft | Adoration 7/7 (DC 16), Elysium's Call 7/7 | Channel Energy 7/7 | Active conditions: None | Apperance

"Indeed! A more musical party there never was! Let's raise our glasses and our voices, in Cayden's name!"

Raquel climbs onto the bar and launches into a traditional drinking song. She stomps her boots to the rhythm as she leads the crowd, though she slurs many of the words and outright forgets some lyrics, merely humming through those sections.. It may not be her best performance, but she certainly is enthusiastic about it!

Perform (sing): 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4


MAPS: FoP I Kingmaker

Raquel's singing gets a less than enthusiastic reception from the locals, and the group is 'invited' to take their carousing elsewhere...

Ok, gonna move things on. You have time to make your purchases before the ball, and I think everyone has now done so.

NEW YEAR, 4719

The Mayor’s New Year Ball is the highlight of Restov’s social calendar, a gathering of the great and the good (among others) in the Mayoral Dacha, located in a scenic location on the outskirts of Restov. The place is done up like an aristocratic hunting lodge, but on a far grander scale than that phrase implies; there are manor houses in Taldor with less grandeur. Set on the slope of a hill away from the main road, it manages to hint at both splendid, reclusive isolation and exclusive, illustrious company all at the same time.

Tonight, wreathed in frost and rimed in snow (it has been one of the bitterest winters in living memory, and one which shows no sign of ending any time soon), it looks almost magical, shimmering with light in every window. Most people who arrive do so from the comfort of carriages (either alone or shared, depending on wealth and status), although some hardy (or foolhardy) folk have ridden through the snow, heedless of the cold and any lurking danger. Some of the more flamboyant have ridden in on sleighs, pulled by fleet and bright-eyed ponies.

However you arrive, you are met by a contingent of the guard at the front gate. Your invitation is scrutinised carefully, and eventually accepted as genuine. Passing through the wrought iron gates, you hurry quickly along the icy gravel path toward the front door, ice and snow crunching under your feet. At the front door, livery-clad footmen again inspect your invitation, but more respectfully this time and in a matter of seconds you are admitted into one of the most exclusive social settings you have ever experienced.

Please take some time to describe how you arrive, as well as what you are wearing. This part of the game has modifiers based on whether you’re dressed in a Noble, Courtier, or Commoner outfit.

HOW THIS WORKS (PLEASE READ!):

OK, we are going to be using the Influence rules from Ultimate Intrigue. That means that this part of the game is divided up into ‘social rounds’ (around 15 minutes each). For the first ‘round’ you may move to a single area listed below and make a dice roll (with appropriate modifier for your clothing, as listed below) using any of the Influence Skills listed for that area.

Where a skill is listed “as appropriate” it means what it says: for example, profession (brewer) would be appropriate for the Taproom, while profession (barrister) would be appropriate for the Long Gallery.

Depending on your roll (low/high/outstanding), you will meet a particular NPC.

In the next round, you may then either:

(1) interact with that NPC, using skills you think might be appropriate (I will roll a Sense Motive for you to get some ideas);

(2) politely disengage and make another roll against the area’s listed Influence Skills to try and find a different NPC; or

(3) politely disengage and move to a different area (note that if you do this, you won’t get to make a roll against that area’s Influence Skills until the subsequent round).

I hope that’s clear. If you have any questions, throw them in the discussion thread.

The goal of this part is for you to make friends and influence people: charter or not, you are a small group of nobodies (no offence) about to go out into terror terra incognita. You need all the friends you can get!

Inside the Dacha, you are free to mingle in the following areas:

GREAT HALL (common +2, courtier -2, noble -4)

This vast main room on the ground floor is given over to the entertainment of the grooms, stablehands, coachmen and assorted valets who accompanied the invited guests. Once the various carriages, sleighs, horses and so on have been stabled and put away, their duties for tonight are over. A vast fireplace burns on one wall, roasting several carcasses on spits, and serving men and women bob too and fro among the crowd delivering platters of steaming roast meat and jugs of ale. Jugglers, acrobats and tumblers perform for the amusement of the crowd, who are also invited to test their skills in wrestling against a great bear of a man, an Ulfen standing at least seven feet tall – although most seem happier simply placing bets on those who are brave enough to try...

Influence Skills: CMB (grapple), Acrobatics, Sleight of Hand

TAPROOM (common +2, courtier -2, noble -4)

Away from the heat and uproar of the great hall, a number of prominent artisans are gathered around the ale dispensers. Their conversation is in various tones of earnestness, as grizzled trappers argue with tanners about who has the worst job, and bakers swap folk remedies for burns with blacksmiths.

Influence Skills: Craft (as appropriate), Profession (as appropriate), Survival

BALLROOM (courtier +2, noble +0, common -2)

Located upstairs, this room is softly furnished, with silk tapestries hanging from the walls to muffle any echo. A harpsichord sits in one corner, and a number of musicians (the scions of prominent local families, for the most part) are taking it in turns to perform. Other members of the upper classes are dancing politely with one another, watched over by hawk-eyed middle-aged chaperones who sit at the back, exchanging gossip. The occasion is an excellent opportunity for some of the more impoverished noble families to improve their fortunes (if not their bloodlines) by pairing off their eligible sons and daughters with the children of rich professionals from the upper-middle classes.

Influence Skills: Perform (as appropriate), Knowledge (nobility), Sense Motive

LONG GALLERY (courtier +2, noble +0, common -2)

This room holds the trophies of Brevoy’s history: banners commemorating famous victories, works of art donated or otherwise appropriated, as well as the dueling swords of swordlords from ages gone by, together with icons and other works of religious art. Strolling up and down the room, supposedly admiring the works but in reality discussing their own trades, the professional middle classes of Restov compare notes and take stock of the year gone by: clerks and barristers, jewelers and silversmiths.

Influence Skills: Profession (as appropriate), Craft (as appropriate), Appraise

SALON (noble +2, courtier -2, common -2)

Away from the bustle and talk of politics, the mayor’s husband, Ioseph Sellimus, is holding court. Ioseph is famous for his dictum: ‘there is no good or bad: people are either charming or tedious’ - and the conversation here is witty, focused on the affairs and misfortunes of the aristocracy. Outright rudeness is frowned upon as vulgar, but a sharp retort, a snide remark, or a catty put-down, will earn Sellimus’s indulgent smile – particularly if it is based on clever wordplay.

Influence Skills: Diplomacy, Knowledge (nobility), Linguistics

TROPHY ROOM (noble +2, courtier -2, common -2)

Among the hunting trophies lining the walls of this room, interspersed with masterwork crossbows and longbows, are the heads of fearsome beasts: gryphons, sabre-toothed cats, great lizards. The nobles gathered here play a slightly different sport, though no less dangerous – politics. Everyone is engaged in multi-layered conversation, often seemingly about innocuous topics such as riding or hunting with hounds, or other outdoor pursuits, but always seeking to gauge the thoughts of the other speaker, whilst giving away nothing in return...

Influence Skills: Bluff, Sense Motive, Handle Animal/Ride

LIBRARY (common +0, courtier +0, noble +0)

There will always be those who dislike social gatherings, whilst acknowledging the necessity to attend them from time to time. Here, in the dusty archives that make up the accumulated knowledge of Restov, a few scholars and would-be dilettantes hold quiet conversations in small groups; or simply sit, their heads buried in a book or scroll.

Influence Skills: Knowledge (as appropriate), Profession (as appropriate)

GAMING ROOM ( common -2, courtier -2, noble -2)

Here the Mayor of Restov, Myrna Sellimus, holds her court amongst a fiercely competitive card game. Her conversation is a series of bawdy jokes and obscene remarks, partly just to remind everyone present that *she* is the big swinging d*ck in this place and can say what the **** she likes; and partly just to put off her fellow card players. The atmosphere is a thick haze of cigar smoke and liquor fumes as she steadily accumulates her winnings from all who try to match their wits against hers.

Influence Skills: surprise me ^_^ (but be prepared to lose some gold!)


Female CG Human (Taldan) Cleric 4 | HP: 45/45 | AC: 19 (11 Tch, 18 Fl) | CMB: +4, CMD: 15 | F: +6, R: +3, W: +10 (+2 vs. mind-affecting, +4 vs. poison) | Init: +1 | Perc: +4, SM: +12  | Speed 20 ft | Adoration 7/7 (DC 16), Elysium's Call 7/7 | Channel Energy 7/7 | Active conditions: None | Apperance

Raquel's arrival at the ball is low-key, joining a group of other attendees in a shard carriage. As she enters the Dacha, she doffs her fur coat, revealing her newly purchased courtier's outfit--an embroidered gold dress with long, flowing sleeves and fur lining around the collar. She still wears her wine-red sash around her waist and her holy symbol around her neck. Her hair is brushed straight and hangs loose past her shoulders.

She fidgets slightly as she looks around the ball. I never thought I'd be attending one of these kinds of parties again. And definitely not dressed like this. A necessary evil, I suppose. With Cayden's luck, at least the drinks shall be strong!

Raquel wanders through the various rooms, eyeing the taproom longingly. She knows it's best not to start her evening there, though, as more than likely she wouldn't ever want to leave again. So she makes her way to the ballroom, taking up a spot near the dance floor. She watches the dancers for some time, enjoying the music, but waiting to get a feel for the mood of the chamber before making introductions.

Sense Motive, Courtier's Outfit: 1d20 + 7 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 7 + 2 = 12

Bah, great start to the game, eh? A 2 and a 3.


Female NG Human (Brevan) Investigator 4/Brawler 1 | HP: 51/51 | AC: 24 (13 Tch, 21 Fl) | CMB: +7, CMD: 19 | F: +5, R: +9, W: +4; +2 vs poison | Init: +2 | Perc: +7, SM: +7 | Speed 20ft | Inspiration 5/5 | Extracts: 1st 3/4, 2nd 0/2; Flex 4/4 | Active conditions: Ablative Barrier, Shield

Arianna weathers the quiet and not-so-quiet criticism of her clothes, the same as what she wore to the get-together. The weight of the tools hidden on her person is a reminder of where her savings went. Walking through the snow was exhausting, but it wasn't as though she had much choice. She takes an amount of pride in being able to stand calm and collected while the guard shivers as he looks over her invitation; the alchemical extract she consumed earlier has maintained a comfortable warmth just under her skin, and while she can still feel the cold, it's no more uncomfortable than a brisk fall day.

Stepping inside, she considers her options. She peeks into the grand hall, gets a sense of the kind of people in there, and moves along. She goes on to the taproom, briefly encouraged by the style of dress, then hears them talking about manual labor and she looks at her own manicured nails, and she moves on.

'Safe or ballsy? Well, fortune favors the bold.' Arianna slides into the Salon, carefully glancing around and trying to look like she belongs.

know nobility+insp-commoner: 1d20 + 7 + 1d6 - 2 ⇒ (17) + 7 + (3) - 2 = 25

Arianna takes a deep breath, mingles, and makes conversation.


Male LG Human (Brevan) Paladin 4 | HP: 65/65 | AC: 21 (11 Tch, 20 Fl) | CMB: +9, CMD: 21 | F: +9, R: +5, W: +7 | Init: +1 | Perc: +0, SM: +8 | Speed 20ft | Smite Evil 2/2 | Lay on Hands 4/4 | Spells: 1st 2/2 | Active conditions: None. Appearance

The ball puts Aivar in a rather uncomfortable position. Either he fancies up his furs and outdoor's clothes and look like a commoner or he spends a sizable amount of wealth on a disposable outfit and jewelry just to make a good impression. Before the mouth gets a choice to join the discussion, the eye has the first word. Look the part so that the conversation doesn't end before it begins. Feeling somewhat lost, the Brevan stared at his own reflection and shook his head. Sacrifices had to be made.

And so the Brevan arrives at the ball dressed for the occasion in a red woolen coat with satin lining and fur trimmings at the sleeves and neck. A kushak, a traditional Brevan belt, indicates his status as a lesser noble with the right to bear arms. It is decorated with a stitched black eagle spreading its wings in front of a field of gold: the Orlovsky coat of arms. Straight cotton pants and sturdy yet supple leather boots finish the attire, with Aivar opting not to wear the traditional headdress. It would most likely be warm enough as is.

The first stop is the salon. It isn't the company there that draws Aivar towards it, but the promise of a solid high-quality drink to instill him with a sense of courage. Because courage is needed if he is to enter the dancefloor at the ballroom later tonight.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 12 - 2 ⇒ (2) + 12 - 2 = 12

Aivar spends 8 gold on a cold-weather outfit and 12 gold on furs. A further 25 gold is used on decorative trimming for the cold-weather outfit and 5 gold on a signet ring. Goodbye stipend.


♀ NG Elven Wizard (Conjuror) 5 | HP: 13/35| AC: 17 (13 Tch, 14 Fl) | CMB +1 CMD 14 | F: +2, R: +5, W: +6 | Init +3 | Perc +12(15), SM +1 | Speed 30 ft | Active Conditions: None | Appearance

Arriving in a decked out coach with some of the minor nobility associated with the Lebeda, Nariel appeared resplendent in her silk green gown, silver necklace and white wool dress overcoat. Though sleek and form fitting dresses were not necessarily the style in Restov, they were quite popular among her kin. As such, Nariel had decided to make a splash at the ball, appearing every bit the elven mystery people sometimes took her for. More than likely, she would also be one of few elves at the affair, adding some unique allure to her presence.

Taking the hand of the doorman, she dismounted gracefully and waited for her travel companions to disembark as well before entering. She took in the sight of the Mayoral Dacha; it appeared wonderfully decorated and full of life tonight, but like all human architecture, Nariel found it a little utilitarian in appearance. Elven structures had an outer worldliness to them that Nariel missed, though she still found inviting aspects to human designs.

Heading inside the Dacha, Nariel smiled lightly as she floated about the party. She paused at the gaming room, tempted by the possibility of mixing it up with the colorful character of a Mayor Restov was rumored to have, but the smoke eminating from the room caused her to cough and second guess such an action so early in the evening. After a time, she decided to pay a visit to the Salon. Seeing Aivar, she smiled and nodded at him, all the happier to have an ally in the room. Heading towards the bar, she retrieved a glass of white wine and turned to the room. Glancing it over, she observed several nobles before smiling mischievously. With a gentle prod, she raised her glass towards her host patron "My word Lord Sellimus, I would have thought you kept better company than this rift-raft." Hoping for a laugh, she waited for a response before taking a seat beside Aivar.

Knowledge Nobility: 1d20 + 8 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 8 + 2 = 30

Nariel's opening is meant as good natured humor, she knows damn well there are lots of important people in the room. Haven't used intrigue rules before, so if Nobility is the wrong skill, substitute in Diplomacy.

I'd also like to pickup a cold-weather outfit given the time of year, still have 14g I believe which should cover it.


Male NG Human (Taldan) Bard (Court Bard) 5 | HP: 40/40 | AC: 19 (14 Tch, 15 Fl) | CMB: +3, CMD: 17 | F: +2, R: +9, W: +5 | Init: +4 | Perc: -1, SM: +13[/ooc | Speed 30ft | [ooc]Performance: 14/14 | Spells: 1st 5/5 2nd 3/3 | Active conditions: None.

Perform(Sing): 1d20 + 10 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 10 + 2 = 18

Tristan suffers through the entryway guards without comment. Ever since his receipt of the charter he had lived within a sort of haze, watching his own actions from the outside. Now, at this grand party, he feels the temptation to live his own life again. This is the sort of event he had always wished for.

He makes his way into the ballroom, observing the dancing and the music. The players are good he allows... but he knows himself to be their better. A glass or two of wine breaks down his resistance, and he beings to sing along with their ballads, creating counter-melodies and harmonies on the fly, flirting with the ladies nearby and teasing the men.


Female CG Human (Taldan) Cleric 4 | HP: 45/45 | AC: 19 (11 Tch, 18 Fl) | CMB: +4, CMD: 15 | F: +6, R: +3, W: +10 (+2 vs. mind-affecting, +4 vs. poison) | Init: +1 | Perc: +4, SM: +12  | Speed 20 ft | Adoration 7/7 (DC 16), Elysium's Call 7/7 | Channel Energy 7/7 | Active conditions: None | Apperance

Raquel smiles as she watches Tristan perform. Damn, he's good. A great voice, easy charm, and not bad to look at, either. A girl could get lost in those eyes... Dammit, focus, Raquel! Stop staring at the pretty bard!

She tries to fight the distraction and turn back to her socializing.


MAPS: FoP I Kingmaker

Social Round 1

GM Screen:
5d20 ⇒ (14, 20, 3, 20, 5) = 62

Raquel:
Thankfully a bad dice roll still gets you a result

You hesitate, confused - once, you could have stepped into a room like this and just read the situation: understood the ebb and flow of the undercurrents, read people's allegiance from the company they kept and the decorations they wore; but now... it's just been too long.

"Confusing, isn't it? They whirl and step and change partners, exchange talk, and we can only guess at the hidden meanings." The voice is from behind you, quickly distracting you from your appreciation of Tristan's singing.

Walking around to face you, he bows elegantly: a man of medium height in his late twenties/early thirties, with curly brown hair worn in a distinctly non-Brevic fashion; as indeed is his accent (slightly Galtan, but not excessively so). "My apologies if I startled you, but you seemed as out of place as I feel, although I am not sure why: you quite look the part! But ciel, where are my manners - Leroy Rezpierre, at your service. And whom have I the honour of addressing?"

You get the sense that he is glad to have found someone else who doesn't seem quite to fit the moment.

Quick reminder of your options:

1 engage NPC in conversation and make an influence check (suggested skills: sense motive, diplomacy)

2 politely disengage and roll again against the area's influence skills

3 politely disengage and move to another room

Arianna:
"Oh, my dears! Look what the cat dragged in... Is that what the peasantry consider fashionable these days?" This aside, clearly said loud enough that it's intended for you to hear, elicits some mocking laughter in support; but you recognise the speaker: Weland Rasselka, now of House Khavtar. House Khavtar are minor Rostlandic nobility, and not wealthy - to remedy this, their patriarch married off his youngest daughter Natashya to Weland, whose father is a (very!) wealthy local moneylender and whose grandfather was a shopkeeper (the Rasselka family has been in trade for generations). Your impression from your time at House Lebeda was that the marriage is regarded as unhappy (no children in almost 2 years!) and your sense now is that the man's comments come from insecurity and a desire to fit in better by attacking someone who clearly doesn't.

The question is: will you respond with flattery, or give him the sharp edge of your tongue? Of course, you could simply ignore him....

Quick reminder of your options:

1 engage NPC in conversation and make an influence check (suggested skills: intimidate, diplomacy)

2 politely disengage and roll again against the area's influence skills

3 politely disengage and move to another room

Aivar:

"Ah! There's a man, ladies and toadies! There's someone who looks like he can actually fight!" The speaker (an elderly gentleman with a red face and the body of someone once-active but now running to fat) takes his remaining arm (the other, empty, sleeve of his jacket is pinned below the row of medals on his chest) off the port decanter he has somehow secured for himself and beckons you to join him in the corner of the room. "Come on, boy, I don't bite! Least not any more - come and listen to an old soldier's stories of the war of '76! Nobody else in this room is worth talking to, I assure you!"

This last remark earns him some black looks, but he breezily ignores them.

Quick reminder of your options:

1 engage NPC in conversation and make an influence check (suggested skills: knowledge nobility, diplomacy)

2 politely disengage and roll again against the area's influence skills

3 politely disengage and move to another room

Nariel:

"For shame, Nariel Laeric. Is that the standard of diplomacy your parents raised you to? Or perhaps the time in Brevoy has claimed you as a native." The tone is light, teasing; the words are in Elven; and they are delivered straight to your ears without traversing the intervening space between you and the speaker. (Message spell FTW)

The speaker himself is effortlessly identifiable, being something of a legend: Inuviel Aladhwon, former ambassador from Kyonin to Rostland, over 200 years ago. When Choral united Issia and Rostland into the nation of Brevoy, Kyonin closed its embassy in Restov (relocating to the new capital as a sign of respect) - and officially Ambassador Aladhwon retired to private life. Choosing to remain in Restov, he has no official capacity; but unofficially, he is still a person of considerable influence, even as a private citizen. His interests (those you know of) are dabbling in the arcane; and keeping up with local events.

Old even by elven standards, with his long silver hair (worn loose) and his dark eyes he has a presence to match his status. From across the room, idly leaning his back against the wall, he inclines his crystal goblet towards you, the invitation clear: join him.

Quick reminder of your options:

1 engage NPC in conversation and make an influence check (suggested skills: knowledge arcana, local)

2 politely disengage and roll again against the area's influence skills

3 politely disengage and move to another room

Tristan:
Your singing is well received: you have a clear, melodious voice (when not clouded with drink) and your choice of songs is generally approved, as you harmonise your tune to counterpoint the other performers.

It is only when a petite blonde young woman takes her place at the harpsichord that you realise you are outclassed: she is good. Very good. A virtuoso. She starts off with some recognisable Chelish cantatas, accompanying you and choosing a key that flatters your own range; but gradually, she alters the speed, the dynamics, the key and the range, ending - with a flourish - at something that is impossible for a human voice to accompany. Her back is to you, but you can tell that she is grinning as she does so.

The applause is rapturous, and sustained, and not directed towards you.

Getting up from the keyboard, she walks gracefully up to you, still smiling. Her short, slender frame is accentuated by her dress, which is the sort of simple that costs real money, adorned only with a brooch in the symbol of Shelyn. "I'm sorry. That was mean, but I couldn't resist it. You have a nice voice, although I don't think it is classically trained, master...?" she clearly expects you to introduce yourself.

Quick reminder of your options:

1 engage NPC in conversation and make an influence check (suggested skills: knowledge nobility, diplomacy)

2 politely disengage and roll again against the area's influence skills

3 politely disengage and move to another room


Female CG Human (Taldan) Cleric 4 | HP: 45/45 | AC: 19 (11 Tch, 18 Fl) | CMB: +4, CMD: 15 | F: +6, R: +3, W: +10 (+2 vs. mind-affecting, +4 vs. poison) | Init: +1 | Perc: +4, SM: +12  | Speed 20 ft | Adoration 7/7 (DC 16), Elysium's Call 7/7 | Channel Energy 7/7 | Active conditions: None | Apperance

Raquel turns to regard the man who approaches her, giving him a quick once-over. "No need to apologize. I've simply been away from the scene for far too long--it will take some time to get back on this particular horse, as it were. Raquel Cailean, at your service."

She starts to offer her hand for him to shake. Curtsy! Ladies curtsy! Silently chiding herself, she instead lifts her skirts and performs a somewhat awkward curtsy.

"So, Leroy Rezpierre, why is it that you feel out of place here? I can tell that you aren't from Brevoy, so it is a case of being a stranger in a strange land or something more than that?"

Raquel lets him do most of the talking at first, listening closely and trying to get a sense of who this man might be.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (14) + 7 = 21

Now we're talking.


Female NG Human (Brevan) Investigator 4/Brawler 1 | HP: 51/51 | AC: 24 (13 Tch, 21 Fl) | CMB: +7, CMD: 19 | F: +5, R: +9, W: +4; +2 vs poison | Init: +2 | Perc: +7, SM: +7 | Speed 20ft | Inspiration 5/5 | Extracts: 1st 3/4, 2nd 0/2; Flex 4/4 | Active conditions: Ablative Barrier, Shield

diplomacy+insp: 1d20 + 4 - 2 + 1d6 ⇒ (18) + 4 - 2 + (3) = 23

Arianna looks bashful. "Forgive me if my dress offends the senses, my lord. But, if I'm being honest, I couldn't ever come close to the example set by you and yours," she says, gesturing to include him as part of the guests gathered here, "Not even with all the gold in Taldor. It's just beyond me."

one use of inspiration expended


Male LG Human (Brevan) Paladin 4 | HP: 65/65 | AC: 21 (11 Tch, 20 Fl) | CMB: +9, CMD: 21 | F: +9, R: +5, W: +7 | Init: +1 | Perc: +0, SM: +8 | Speed 20ft | Smite Evil 2/2 | Lay on Hands 4/4 | Spells: 1st 2/2 | Active conditions: None. Appearance

The jovial nature of the man instantly rubs off on Aivar, whose face explodes into a cheeky grin upon hearing the veteran's praise and invitation. Aivar gives him a firm nod and then proceeds to take a seat next to the veteran. "Ha! I take your word for it, sir, and I kindly accept the invitation. The name is Aivar, Aivar Kurisyl Orlovsky, and my companions and I are about to embark on an important expedition to tame the Greenbelt and chase out the bandit scourge, so I feel blessed to have this opportunity to soak up some of your wisdom."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (15) + 12 = 27
I didn't add or subtract an outfit bonus, for clarity's sake. Also, Aivar has the 'Silver Tongue' human trait, meaning that on successful diplomacy checks to shift a creature's attitude, it goes up by three and not two. Perhaps it is applicable here, perhaps not!


Female LN Human (Brevan) Unchained rogue (consigliere) 4 | HP: 27/36 | AC: 17 (14 Tch, 13 Fl) | CMB: +3, CMD: 14 | F: +3, R: +8, W: +3 | Init: +3 | Perc: +8, SM: +8 | Speed 30ft | SA: 0/0 | Spells: 0/0 | Active conditions: None.

Sasha will spend the entirety of her stipend on jewelry. She took the time to buy a courtier's outfit, so she might as well look the part.

Sasha glides into the trophy room, the picture of a wealthy merchant's daughter. Leaving most of her finer garments behind, she dressed in an understated gown of red velvet with a matching vest of crimson lace. She takes a moment to adjust her hair, careful to keep track of the sharpened pins holding it all in place. In a pinch, they could double as weapons; the clandestine affairs of the nobility were no less likely to become violent, and Sasha was always prepared.

She pointedly ignored the ball room. That was a place one of her station was expected to be, and worst of all, somebody familiar with her father might recognize her there. This is where the action is, she thinks. The movers and shakers of Restov were either in here or in the mayor's card game, and Sasha knew nothing of cards. She does however, know something of men.

Sasha moves to the center of the room and does her best to appear like a lost lamb, disconnected from her group of friends, but in awe of the trophies on display.

Bluff: 1d20 + 6 - 2 ⇒ (9) + 6 - 2 = 13

Not the worst roll.


♀ NG Elven Wizard (Conjuror) 5 | HP: 13/35| AC: 17 (13 Tch, 14 Fl) | CMB +1 CMD 14 | F: +2, R: +5, W: +6 | Init +3 | Perc +12(15), SM +1 | Speed 30 ft | Active Conditions: None | Appearance

With a warm smile, Nariel raises her glass towards Inuviel; among elves he was well known, but for aspiring diplomats like herself, he was a legend and potentially powerful ally. Nariel responded in turn by sending a message his way meant only for his ear "Well, to paraphrase the old saying, when in Restov... Message spell FTW indeed! Casting it right back at him.

Since the entire exchange happened without a word being spoken aloud, it might have appeared strange for Nariel to suddenly move from her position towards Inuviel. When she approached, Nariel bowed in a manner that showed deference and humility for an elven elder of his age and status. Without rising, she spoke aloud and perfectly in her native tongue, being sure to impress upon him her singular ability with language "Heru Aladhwon, ta naa Seasamin oment- lle sina undome."

Spoiler:
Lord Aladhwon, it is my great pleasure to meet you this evening.

Linguistics: 1d20 + 8 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 8 + 2 = 22

Nariel remained in the bowed position, awaiting a response before arising, but not before playfully adding in a confident tone in the common tongue "Please forgive my crudeness just now m'Lord, it was very undiplomatic of me." Placing emphasis on the word undiplomatic, Nariel wanted to impress upon the elder elf that she knew exactly who he was.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (17) + 2 + 1 = 20

By the way, is it okay that I've been adding the noble clothing rolls? I had figured since Nariel has the Noble born trait and regularly attends these kinds of affairs, she would have that, but if that is too rich or we're suppose to pay for the clothing, it occurs to me that she wouldn't have the money for that, or any clothes for that matter unless I swap some gear.


MAPS: FoP I Kingmaker

Social Round 1

Sasha:

It is easy to be impressed by the trophies - minimal acting skills required - because they are impressive beasts, and well-curated. Someone has evidently spent a great deal on taxidermy: the eyes and feathers and scales look as bright and clear as the day they were killed.

Pride of place belongs to the head and forelimbs of a griffon, which is mounted on a plaque above the fireplace. With its beak open in a furious cry, it looks almost as though it could come to life at any moment. Its feathers are a golden sheen, tinted with a verdant green and sunset red. A tiny brass plate commemorates the killer (a nobleman whose name you don't recognise) and the date: 4525.

You are not alone in your admiration of it: someone else is clearly drawn to whatever message it is trying to convey - a man in his late thirties/early forties, tall and heavyset. He is dressed in dark velvet (either midnight blue or black, it is hard to tell in this light), with a platinum key hanging from a chain on his neck - the symbol of Abadar, the deity of merchants, trade and wealth. He leans forward, reading the date labelled on the brass plate. "A simpler time," he remarks. "People knew where power lies, then - with the one who carried the sword. These days..." he gives a quiet shrug. "Not so much, I find." He gives you a sidelong glance, almost conspiratorial, before pointing towards the trophy on the wall. "What does it say to you, I wonder?"

Quick reminder of your options:

1 engage NPC in conversation and make an influence check (suggested skills: sense motive, diplomacy)

2 politely disengage and roll again against the area's influence skills

3 politely disengage and move to another room


Female LN Human (Brevan) Unchained rogue (consigliere) 4 | HP: 27/36 | AC: 17 (14 Tch, 13 Fl) | CMB: +3, CMD: 14 | F: +3, R: +8, W: +3 | Init: +3 | Perc: +8, SM: +8 | Speed 30ft | SA: 0/0 | Spells: 0/0 | Active conditions: None.

I'm actually not certain what the current year is.

Sasha turns to look at the man, noting his size and the symbol of Abadar that hung around his neck. His words rang untrue in her mind: power was power, and it most often lied in those that had the most swords.

She glances back towards the griffon head. "It seems a fearsome beast, though surely the blades of today are no less sharp. Does my lord not hunt? " she asks.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 8 - 2 ⇒ (8) + 8 - 2 = 14


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Female NG Human (Brevan) Investigator 4/Brawler 1 | HP: 51/51 | AC: 24 (13 Tch, 21 Fl) | CMB: +7, CMD: 19 | F: +5, R: +9, W: +4; +2 vs poison | Init: +2 | Perc: +7, SM: +7 | Speed 20ft | Inspiration 5/5 | Extracts: 1st 3/4, 2nd 0/2; Flex 4/4 | Active conditions: Ablative Barrier, Shield

date is up top, 4718 turning 4719, head is almost 200 years old


MAPS: FoP I Kingmaker

Social Round 2

Raquel:

The man bows, smoothly, as you introduce yourself. Enchanté, Mademoiselle Raquel. And you are correct: I am far from home, in that the Galt that I knew is gone.” He gives a sad smile. “My father was a reformer, a progressive even, but all that the revolution saw was a wealthy landowner… My sister and I were fortunate to escape with our lives. Now I am a not-so-humble trader, looking for business opportunities wherever there is stability enough to do business. But tonight, I have promised myself an evening off; so perhaps you will give me the next dance, while you tell me about what has kept such a good listener as yourself ‘away from the scene for too long’…?” He quotes your own words back at you with a charming smile.

Same options as before: influence roll for NPC; influence roll for room; move to new room.

Arianna:
Weland looks as though he is about to press the issue further, notwithstanding your gracious reply, but – somewhat surprisingly, perhaps – Ioseph Sellimus intervenes decisively, cutting across whatever was about to be said: “Oh, do give it a rest, dear boy – your little ‘I’m better than thou’ routine has become deeply tedious.” This brutal put-down leaves Weland with his mouth hanging open (until he remembers to close it), silencing him utterly.

Sellimus himself is completely unperturbed, ignoring the man completely as he focuses his attention on you: “Anyone with the presence of mind to stay calm when insulted, and the nerve to come into this room wearing that attire, is somebody I want to know better. So, my dear, why don’t you come and sit by me and tell me something interesting?”

Same options as before: influence roll for NPC; influence roll for room; move to new room.

Aivar:
The man looks at you keenly as you introduce yourself, his eyes sharp despite the years – and the drink. “An Orolovsky, eh? Ha! Damn few of your lot look like you spend your days juggling iron bars, but it’s good to meet the exception! Anyway, I’m Ser Drezdhen Unwin and it’s damn good to make your acquaintance, boy.”

He fills up your glass with an extremely generous splash of red port, before continuing. “They gave me the ‘Ser’ and these medals in exchange for this:” he gestures at the sleeve pinned to his jacket; “Nice of them, but most days I’d much rather have the arm back. Anyway, let me tell you how I came to lose it...” He spends several minutes in graphic – even gory – description of the skirmishes he was involved with on the Iobarian border 40-plus years ago, before returning to the present.

His eyes again look at you keenly. “So, those damnfools can’t leave well enough alone, eh? Another push into the Greenbelt – well, hope you have better luck than the last lot.” He chuckles. “From what I heard, only one of ‘em made it back – he was one of the hill-families, of course. Word of advice, boy: you find yourself in mortal peril, find a Garess and put ‘em between you and whatever’s threatening you. Might keep all your limbs that way.”

Same options as before: influence roll for NPC; influence roll for room; move to new room.

Nariel:
The former ambassador nods in reply to your greeting; he continues to speak in Elven. “I am glad to have this opportunity to meet – I hear you are accomplishing good things in your station with House Lebeda.”

The old elf looks for a moment into his wine glass, evidently considering what to say next. When he does speak, it is clear that he has chosen his words with care. “It was therefore something of a surprise to hear that you had chosen to become so overtly involved in Rostlandic affairs. I fear it may prove to be something of a controversial position, when it becomes known back in Kyonin. Not that I have any official contacts there, of course. But it does put the Ambassador to Brevoy in something of a difficult position, personally. Or so I would imagine, if I were to speak with him. Kyonin is, after all, completely neutral in regards to matters between Issia and Rostland. Even the appearance of direct involvement could be seen as awkward.”

He looks at you with a steady gaze, watching to see how you take this all in, and whether you fully understand the nuances of what he is saying. “I rather fear you may find your lines of communication with the homeland somewhat impaired.

Same options as before: influence roll for NPC; influence roll for room; move to new room.

Sasha:

It's New Year 4719

Your response gets an indulgent smile in reply, as though you have said something charmingly naive. "Am I a hunter? Well, perhaps of sorts; but not of beasts such as this." He raises an eyebrow. "Tell me, are you familiar with Abadar's Golden Rule?" Without waiting for you to reply, he gives the answer: "It is 'He who has the gold, makes the rules.' Owning a sharp blade is nice, no doubt; but the one who can buy a hundred men with sharp blades has the real power, would you not agree?"

"But I am getting ahead of myself. I am Tomasso Dottori, formerly of Absalom and now - for my sins - trying to bring the wisdom of Abadar to these unfortunate lands. And you, I believe, are one of the Chartered Explorers, although I do not have the advantage of your name. Perhaps you will remedy that?"

Same options as before: influence roll for NPC; influence roll for room; move to new room.


Female CG Human (Taldan) Cleric 4 | HP: 45/45 | AC: 19 (11 Tch, 18 Fl) | CMB: +4, CMD: 15 | F: +6, R: +3, W: +10 (+2 vs. mind-affecting, +4 vs. poison) | Init: +1 | Perc: +4, SM: +12  | Speed 20 ft | Adoration 7/7 (DC 16), Elysium's Call 7/7 | Channel Energy 7/7 | Active conditions: None | Apperance

Raquel smiles and offers Leroy her hand to allow him to lead her onto the dance floor. "I grew up among the courts of the land, but it didn't take me long to realize that this lifestyle was not for me. I sought a quiet life full of simple pleasures--drinking, carousing, and helping others in ways that could truly make a difference. Cayden Cailean called to me, and I answered.

"Truly, it's been liberating not having to deal with the pressures of high society. I'm only here tonight out of necessity. But perhaps it won't be so bad--I've already met you, after all."

She favors her dance partner with a charming smile--and then proceeds to stomp on his feet and stumble through the steps. "Eep! Sorry. I told you I was out of practice." The cleric blushes profusely.

Sweet barleybrew! That taproom is sounding might appealing right about now...

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 5 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 5 + 2 = 11

And back down we go. This is why Raquel doesn't do high society parties any more. ;)


Female LN Human (Brevan) Unchained rogue (consigliere) 4 | HP: 27/36 | AC: 17 (14 Tch, 13 Fl) | CMB: +3, CMD: 14 | F: +3, R: +8, W: +3 | Init: +3 | Perc: +8, SM: +8 | Speed 30ft | SA: 0/0 | Spells: 0/0 | Active conditions: None.

Thanks, Arianna!

Knowledge (nobility): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23

Does Sasha recognize this man at all?

Sasha offers Tomasso a sly smile, but a chill runs down her back. She had a sense that this man was dangerous. "I couldn't agree more, my lord. I hope to bring the same practical thinking to the Stolen Lands."

Sasha offers the Abadaran a practised curtsy. "My lord may call me Sasha."

Influence (diplomacy): 1d20 + 8 - 2 ⇒ (8) + 8 - 2 = 14

If only I could roll higher than a 10 on influence. :'(


Male NG Human (Taldan) Bard (Court Bard) 5 | HP: 40/40 | AC: 19 (14 Tch, 15 Fl) | CMB: +3, CMD: 17 | F: +2, R: +9, W: +5 | Init: +4 | Perc: -1, SM: +13[/ooc | Speed 30ft | [ooc]Performance: 14/14 | Spells: 1st 5/5 2nd 3/3 | Active conditions: None.

I'm often too busy to post on the weekends, but am happy to catch up.

Round 1
Tristan heartily enjoys the musical 'duel' he seems to be engaged in. The player may well be the best he's ever heard, and when she finishes thoroughly trouncing his ability to sing along he joins in the applause as heartily as anyone else.

"Precisely no apologies necessary," he says. "I've never had such a delightful time being upstaged. My name is Tristan Aislin - no master or sir needed. May I have a name to put to my conqueror?"

Upon her reply:

"An inestimable pleasure to meet you. And to answer your question, I did indeed have some classical training in my youth, but I was a rash lad, and left my tutor when I learned people would already pay me to perform."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 9 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 9 + 2 = 14


Male LG Human (Brevan) Paladin 4 | HP: 65/65 | AC: 21 (11 Tch, 20 Fl) | CMB: +9, CMD: 21 | F: +9, R: +5, W: +7 | Init: +1 | Perc: +0, SM: +8 | Speed 20ft | Smite Evil 2/2 | Lay on Hands 4/4 | Spells: 1st 2/2 | Active conditions: None. Appearance

Even though the excessive gory details do get to him - Gods Above, what makes mortals inflict such suffering on one another?! - Aivar makes it a point to let the man finish. There's an obvious burden on the veteran's shoulders and if by listening Aivar gets to somewhat lighten that load even if just for this night, it is the least the Orlovsky can do for the man.

Luckily, the gory story ends and the veteran offers him some useful advice. Well, useful. "That sounds like good advice. A battle ain't the war and staring yourself blind on today's fight might mean you won't be able to see tomorrow's." Aivar then blinks, realizing he's starting to ramble. "Gosh, I blame the alcohol, but I'm sure you get what I'm trying to say. The safety of my companions will be my primary objective and knowing that many have tried and failed, I will try to maintain a wide gaze: the obvious has been tried before [i]and[i], most likely, by more capable fighters than I. Thank you, once again."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (3) + 12 = 15


Female NG Human (Brevan) Investigator 4/Brawler 1 | HP: 51/51 | AC: 24 (13 Tch, 21 Fl) | CMB: +7, CMD: 19 | F: +5, R: +9, W: +4; +2 vs poison | Init: +2 | Perc: +7, SM: +7 | Speed 20ft | Inspiration 5/5 | Extracts: 1st 3/4, 2nd 0/2; Flex 4/4 | Active conditions: Ablative Barrier, Shield

Arianna hides her satisfaction at catching Sellemius' attention. "My lord, I'm flattered. I can't say I'm all that interesting, however, now that I think about it, I heard something odd about some students from the academy carrying out some kind of 'initiation ceremony' for their juniors, I pity the poor fools connected to that..."

know local+insp: 1d20 + 7 - 2 + 1d6 ⇒ (16) + 7 - 2 + (3) = 24

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