Nyugusk stands on four of his six legs, with pincer-like claws at the ends of the front four. His too-wide mouth overflows with tusks pointing in every direction, and his left arm seems to have far too many joints, making it look as much like an accordion as anything else. He extends his too-many-jointed arm from ten feet away to shake the new pathfinder's hand with a crab-like pincer. "Nyugusk Newblossom, the Transmogrifying Lotus, at your service. May this chymical injection serve as a catalyst toward your own self-perfection...and may you have the courage to accept where it takes you, rather than fighting it based on preconceived notions." With that he gives a brief glance at Argor.
"It is a rare honor to receive this serum. I firmly believe that it has the ability to bring out hidden greatness, should you let it."
While doing his tour in the gnome community looking for Madame Figtrigbit Batbongle, Hrim finally hears news. Chesne of House Yuirel at the Fierce Stripe says she's been arrested for badger-cide and is prison. Hrim barely thanks Chesne for the news and is out the door flying toward the prison as fast as his shadowy wings can take him.
Badger-cide? Why is killing badgers illegal? What divinity revere badgers? Wisconsinites? Thoughts swirl around Hrim's desperate mind.
The female member of the Freaks stands slightly apart from the others, and offers Mettera a formal curtsy. She is clad in a light and airy sundress that reveals ample amounts of her head-to-toe fur which is patterned in orange-and-black stripes. Striking wings protrude proudly from her back with similar coloration.
She looks up at Nyug with a sad sort of smile, then back to Mettera. "My name is Cladissa de-- I mean, Cladissa Velorryan. I've no doubt you are brave and ready to accept this serum. But please know... it will hurt."
[dice=Knowledge (Local) on Mettera]1d20 + 10
Argor hovers behind the rest of the more grotesquely mutated members of their particular team, allowing the others to introduce themselves first, his arms folded behind him. He wears resplendent black silken robes, with regalia marking him as both a Varlokkur as well as a Maven of the Arcanamirium. Beneath the open robes, he wears a suit of finery fit for the Petals District, green silk, with white trim. A marvelous emerald pendant hangs from his neck, and he wears a ring with an onyx on his left hand, as well as a signet ring on his right.
Ah, the Antiquities girl's mercenary. How interesting. If what I have heard is correct, the man is actually fairly competent, though a bit brash. Well, that is to be expected of someone who is sometimes expected to kill or die for the sake of another. Perhaps...perhaps I could find use for him...
Once the others conclude their introductions, floats a bit forward and says, "And I am Argor, Varlokkur, Maven of the Arcanamirium, and member of this prestigious organization as well. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Black. I have heard a bit about your work. I wonder, did you volunteer for this undertaking, or were you chosen on merit?"
Hrim pushes the shadows down and away from him to reveal himself to the the new guy. Shadows still cling to him like spider webs. He is an average size, bald gnome with a stark white beard and slate gray skin. His outfit is fit for nobility but a bit voluminous for his stature in various shades of black and violet. Fine lamellar leather armor peeks out at his cuffs and neck. He wears a full haversack, small composite longbow, quiver, gauntlets and morningstar.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, Materra Black, I am Hrimnagel Avaldamon of Dwimovel in the Darklands’ layer of Sekamina. I occupy the role of scout and archer for the team." The deep gnome nods and introduces himself in his small, thin voice. It becomes readily apparent that it takes the same amount of effort for him to hold back the swirling shadows as it does for you to hold your breath.
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At the jail, Hrim says in anguish, "Madame Batbongle, I've been looking for you everywhere but never here. Chesne of House Yuirel at the Fierce Stripe just told me about your incarceration. And I literally flew here. How are you? What happened? How can I help?" The questions flow from him like steam from a boiling kettle.
At the jail, Hrim says in anguish, "Madame Batbongle, I've been looking for you everywhere but never here. Chesne of House Yuirel at the Fierce Stripe just told me about your incarceration. And I literally flew here. How are you? What happened? How can I help?" The questions flow from him like steam from a boiling kettle.
“Oh, hello Hrimnagel,” madame Batbongle replies. Her eyes flutter open sleepily and she smiles at him. “I was arrested for poisoning some badgers after they defacated on the Count’s shrine. Apparently badgers are protected varmints in this place. At first I was dismayed, but then I realized this was a message from Him. For, what is jail but a form of exile? He must have wanted me to experience this exile so that I might better serve as his priestess in the future. So I sm fine, I need no help. How are you?”
Hrim takes a deep breath and seriously considers her point of view. "I am well. Better now that I have found you. We exiles need to stick together." He sits down in front of her.
"But what of His shrine? Now that I've found you, would you mind if I sought your release, so you could continue serving it?"
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The Tian man accepted the pincer without so much of a hint of disgust at the strange looks of the Pathfinder before him. One did not agree to things without a fair amount of research and knowing what to expect. He knew of the Venture Captain's ulterior motives for the research on this serum, he knew the rumors that it would respond to the true self or the desires of recipient and he knew that possibly if it did render him as unique as the person whom he was greeting, then perhaps Mae could be bothered to rescind his leave of absence and he could be close to her again. This was his opportunity, and he wasn't going to leave it suspended.
All client were welcome to their opinions, although not all opinions "It is a indeed unique honor to not only meet each of you, but also to join you on your quests. I have read the chronicles you all have written of your experiences with the serum and I am prepared for whatever may come as a result. I appreciate your concern, but there's no pain that I can't handle through my rigorous training." That possibly could have been a bit too much bragging, but it would help him keep his dignity through the process.
Mattera didn't know whether or not to trust this one. Rumors abounded on every one of the Freaks, but this one seemed particularly cunning. He'd have to keep an eye on him. "I was chosen but I'm also willing. What made you how you are is still a closely guarded secret. I'm not sure if anyone else made the list."
"For those of you who don't know me by reputation, my family has been in the protection and bodyguard business for thirteen generations. We know how to spot danger and deal with threats. I particularly enjoy delivering justice to the criminal element with efficiency. There wasn't so much in Druma thanks to my forebears, but there are plenty of ne'erdowells here."
Seeing the Gnome pull back his shadows, gave him a nod of respect. "It's good to know what you're good at. I'm sure we'll learn to work together well." The effects were certainly varied among the group, definitely more than the reports could say. It must be one of those things that can only be experienced.
"If you'll excuse me for a moment, I'll take the serum and we can talk after. I hate procrastination." Taking the syringe and pressing it into his own neck, The man shudders a bit as the substance goes quickly to his heart and head. Then the shaking intensified as he struggled to maintain his posture. It felt as if someone was driving nails into every part of his insides at the same time. Blood began dripping from his nose, eyes, mouth and ears almost immediately, and he started bleeding from his fingernails as well. As his frame seemed to constrict slightly, he became more wirey, all his muscles tightly banding into cords. The blood that came out of his face and fingers started to turn a silvery color as his whole complexion turned pale.
The Tian wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smearing his silver blood over his hand and coughed a couple times. Looking closely at the blood, he seemed a bit disappointed. "Pity it's not gold. Typical."
Pulling out a silk handkerchief and wiping up his face and hands stowing his glasses with a bit of a tremor in his fingers. Turning to Classida, he looked her straight in the eye and nodded. "You were definitely right. This pain is hellish. I don't have something to compare it to. According to the reports, it will subside over time, I am looking forward to that. Pain can be invigorating as well, though. I'm not sure I entirely dislike it."
Glancing back at Monseiur Newblossom, he added. "My structure seems relatively the same, I do have to say I'm slightly disappointed. It would have been easier to scare off potential threats with a more overt physical presence. Of course I could have subconsiously suppressed it due to my love for a good scrap. Ah well. I suppose it couldn't be helped. Perhaps I'm too regimented in my personality to let the serum run wild."
Cladissa watched the injection and subsequent transformation with a hand over her mouth and her heart in her throat. While she wanted to offer him some sort of comfort, she knew from experience that it was best to just let it take hold and do its work.
The blood was new. As far as she knew, everyone else had normal-colored blood -- she'd seen enough of it spilt over the last year. "Take it slow. Don't expect to understand it all at once; it took us months and we still don't have all the answers," she advises. "Oh, and avoid any mutagenic or alchemic substances for a while, at least until you stabilize."
Hrimnagel observed the injection and non-transformation from behind his engulfing shadows. The deep gnome firmly believed that his transformation had been the work of Count Ranalc and wondered who would guide Mr. Black's change.
He agreed with Cladissa's assessment and advice and did not see the point in expressing his concurrence at the moment. The pain was probably more than enough to distract from polite conversation.
Hrim watched the wheels turn behind Argor's mask and anxiously waited for his observations; they were usually entertaining if not insightful, too.
The moment Mettera moved to inject himself, Argor cast a can trip to observe any magic auras that may appear.
As the man began to bleed, he half expected him to continue to degenerate into a puddle like the doctor so long ago. However, Mettera seemed to gain his composure fairly quickly, as well as maintain a rather normal appearance.
How interesting.
He casts a glance to Cladissa and Nyugusk, before asking, "An intriguing assessment, Mr. Black. And yes, as Ms. Velorryan suggests, take caution with alchemical substances, as we have seen what can happen first hand..."
"Well, this has been an interesting turn of developments. I believe we should take some time to become acquainted with our new companion. I have some other things I would discuss with everyone, as a team, anyway. Let us have dinner this evening to talk things out. Which would you all prefer, meet at Verde Heights, or at The Golden Raven?"
Cladissa blinks at Argor. "The Golden Raven? I've heard that place is rather exclusive. How do you think we'd get a table there on such short notice?"
Argor looks at her, dumbstruck for a moment, then smirks before saying. "Because, my dearest Cladissa," he pauses for effect, "I own it.'
Cladissa's eyes widen. "Okay. Well, that's nice. Perhaps we should go there, then? I'm sure we'll get excellent service." She smiles, but then raises a quizzical eyebrow to Argor as if to ask, what the hell?
Hrimnagel is surprised about Argor's revelation of the ownership of a restaurant. The deep gnome had always dreamed of owning a bookstore like his parents. Maybe even start an import business between his hometown and Absalom... He decided to ask Argor about it over supper.
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Mettera thought little about food at this point and time, but it was a social thing, so it would be important to build bridges and develop a team atmosphere. It would be particularly important for him to get a feel for the group dynamic. He hoped to have enough information by the end of the night for a full dossier on each of them.
Running his tongue over his teeth and tasting for his own blood, he made a face of disgust. He knew there was blood in there in any case, but it didn't taste like there was. "I'll prefer the restaurant over the private dining room. Restaurants generally have a larger variety of food on hand and there's a half chance that my tastes have changed. Discovering what I will like now might be an adventure in itself."
Cladissa nods her head vigorously. "A change of one's sensory organs is absolutely possible. It happened to me after a certain... extreme mutation. But I got better, and was able to reassert a more conventional -- and omnivorous -- physiology."
She watches Mettera closely as he attempts to recover from his drastic change. "But there is no rush, if you need time to recuperate. A private dining venue might be more appropriate in case you have any extreme reactions."
Hrim takes a deep breath and seriously considers her point of view. "I am well. Better now that I have found you. We exiles need to stick together." He sits down in front of her.
"But what of His shrine? Now that I've found you, would you mind if I sought your release, so you could continue serving it?"
** spoiler omitted **
"I guess since you found me, He must be ready for my exile to end. If you feel the need to pay my bail, I will not stop you."
VC Valsin watches the transformation with the same interest as the rest. He begins scribbling notes on the process, finishing his writing at roughly the same time the transformation ends. "Amazing," is his only comment.
"I think all of you getting to know each other is a good idea. We have been working you hard lately, and adding a new member to an experienced team can always be stressful. I will do my best to see that no work falls onto your plates for the next few weeks at least." Valsin shrugs. "Unless you have further questions, then you are dismissed."
"Excellent," Argor says. "I will make the arrangements for us to have a private sit down at the Raven. As I said, I have several things to discuss with all of you regarding future endeavors. I will arrange for a carriage to pick you all up tomorrow evening, say, an hour before sunset?"
He then excuses himself to make the arrangements.
Hrim pays the 440 gp fee and signs the affidavit, which enables the release of Madame Batbongle.
Then, he escorts her to the shrine finding it a mess. The two review everything that needs to be done to restore the shrine.
After several hours, they head to see Chesne at the Fierce Stripe. "Madame Chesne, please allow me to introduce to you my very special friend, Madame Figtrigbit Batbongle. Thank you so very much for the information to find her. When would you have some time to discuss a special project of ours?"
Cladissa watches Argor float away, lips pressed into a tight line. Then she turns her attention back to Mettera. "Has the pain lessened? It fades after a while, usually. But then, it's been different for each of us. Do you need some time to yourself, or would you like some company?"
The following day, nearly an hour before sunset as promised, an extravagant carriage arrives at Jabberwocky Lane to pick up the members of Absalom's premier team of Pathfinders. A well dressed footman waits for you politely, holding the door open and bowing to each of you as you approach.
After a short ride north through the Foreign Quarter, you eventually arrive at the address of The Golden Raven. It is a high class restaurant and social gathering place for the fine people of Absalom's more prestigious districts to mingle for a fine meal, fine company, comfortable lodging, and one of a kind beverages brewed on site from exotic fruits and herbs grown from its own greenhouse.
The sign is an image of a golden raven viewed from the front, its wings outstretched as if preparing to land or as if it were hovering above the door. The building's name is written on scrollwork within the raven's talons.
The marble walk up to the doorway is lined with a variety of colorful plantlife, and is illuminated by floating, glowing orbs of arcane energy. To the side of the building, an outdoor dining and sitting area includes a variety of shaped topiary, a fountain, and a scattering of the same orbs glowing in blue magical radiance. Marble pathways lead from the main building to this area and all throughout. What guests remain at the establishment tonight are seated here, and as you approach, those with views of the front entry can easily be seen studying you as you approach, trying to determine exactly who the VIP guests of the evening were.
The main room is even more extravagant than the exterior. The floors are all fine marble, the bar is obsidian with gold accents, polished smooth. The seats at the bar are all very comfortable with green velvet cushions. It is stocked with only the finest brands, as well as special, high quality wines and ales brewed on-site with the rare herbs and fruits grown in the greenhouse. The tables all share the same obsidian and gold coloration of the bar top, as well as the green velvet chairs. Fine tapestries and works of art hang from the walls, and each table is lit by an ornamental oil candle.
The staff all eagerly await you as you enter. They are well dressed, clearly well trained, and extremely polite. Aside from them, however, the entire interior is empty. It is clear that Argor has arranged it so that the only ones within this area would be their group. The maitre d steps forward and bows cordially. "Sires. M'Lady. Your table awaits," he says as he gestures the group to the large table in the center of the room. There are six seats available, with another minuscule seat sitting atop a pedestal to the side of one of the chairs.
As you take your seats, the servants begin presenting you each with a menu:
Roasted Deer and Soft Cheese
Smoked Shellfish and Sharp Cheese
Poached Phoenix and Raspberry Tart
Poached Eel and Artichoke
Baked Lamb with Mustard and Acorn Bread
Braised Shellfish with Nutmeg and Artichoke
Stewed Shark and Turnip
Steamed Chicken with Nutmeg and Cranberry Tart
As you look over the food items, the maitre d steps forward and asks, "Would any of you care for something to drink? We have all of the finest beverages Absalom has to offer, including our house specials."
I have been going to lots of formal events lately, Cladissa observes as she peruses her selection of altered dresses. She holds each dress up against her form, trying to gauge which of her elegant gowns created the statement of being refined without trying too hard. She had retrieved her collection from Maylinna earlier in the day, where she learned that all but one of her dresses had been easily altered to accommodate her wings. The only one that couldn't be adjusted, in a rather severe form of irony, was her Tian-style dress that Roald had given her during his early days of wooing her.
She had her selection down between two dresses when Jannicke entered, looking excited. Her hand clutched a letter. "It's my half-brother, Dannel," she begins. "He went and got himself married. Eloped, apparently. Now he's got a newborn, and he wants me there for the naming ceremony! I'm an aunt!"
"That's great!" Cladissa encourages, happy for some good news at last. "Is he here in Absalom?"
She shakes her head. "No, he's in Andoran." She sobers slightly, and looks at her roommate. "I'll need to go now, and it'll probably be a month or two before I get back. I don't have the money for a teleport."
Cladissa starts, "I could--"
"No! Don't you dare. You earned that money risking your life. It's no trouble, and I like the sea. My father's a sailor. It's just, are you going to be okay? It's not that important I make the naming ceremony if you want me to stick around a few more days."
The Pathfinder waves her off. "Jann, I've faced alien robots, planar invasions and life-draining undead. I can deal with a little heartache. Go, see your niece. Or nephew. I'll be fine here 'till you get back."
The two embrace, then Jannicke starts gathering her things. "No crawling back to Roald, you here me?"
Cladissa crosses her heart. "Pathfinder's honor. And no flying, or walking, or any other mode of transport I happen to evolve while you're gone," she smiles.
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Cladissa steps out of the coach wearing a lavender one-shoulder dress. She takes one of Nyugusk's pincers by hand and allows him to escort her into the private dining room of the restaurant. Cole steals along at her feet.
She takes a seat and studies the drink menu. "I'll have a glass of chilled Galtan white, Chateau l'Avingnon, if you please," she says with a smile.
She looks over to Mettera, looking to start the conversation. "So, how are you settling in? Have you determined what the formula has done for you? For me, it's given me wings, as you can no doubt observe, but it's also enhanced my intellect."
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Cladissa watches Argor float away, lips pressed into a tight line. Then she turns her attention back to Mettera. "Has the pain lessened? It fades after a while, usually. But then, it's been different for each of us. Do you need some time to yourself, or would you like some company?"
Mettera held up a hand in apology. "I appreciate your concern, but this is something I would like some time alone to acclimate. I will be glad to join you all for dinner."
He walked over toward the Venture Captain. "Expect a full report at the end of the week. I'll be leaving first."
===============================================================
The Tian man walked into the restaurant dressed to the nines. His robes making a slight shuffling noise that befitted the finest silks, he nevertheless stepped quickly, not wishing to be late. To his dismay, he was the last to arrive. He'd noticed a few other differences in the intervening hours, which did slow him down slightly, as he made a few detailed notes for his chronicle. The carriage, which had arrived duly on time, was made to wait until he was able to finish.
Sitting down at the table, still carrying his tetsubo in his waistband somewhat haphazardly, like a child with a stick in his belt pretending it is a sword, he made himself comfortable as the chair squeaked quite loudly. Glancing to Cladissa as she asked her question, he made ready his answer. "It seemed the serum has nearly doubled my weight. The silver blood in my veins also acts as protection from blows and I'm much more resistant to bruising. It should make me fairly durable on the front line, where I prefer to be."
He reached over and gingerly picked up a glass of water only to have the glass crumple in his hands as easily as a leaf. "I apologize for the mess, but it also seems I am a fair bit stronger than I was before as well. It takes some getting used to, but my abilities have nearly tripled as best as I can tell at the moment. My senses are also quite confused, as it seems I am more sensitive in my perceptions than I was before. It will take some getting used to, but I'm sure it will be quite effective."
Looking about at those seated, Mettera asked with genuine curiosity. "How long did it take until you were able to master your new form?"
Hrim arrived with Nyug at the Golden Raven. Without his companion, he would have flown, because a carriage would never be able to see him for him to hail. He wore the same noble outfit of black and violet that he had been wearing since the last supper with the demons, not that many people could admire it.
He forced the shadows from him enough to get some attention from the hostess to be seated and served by the maitre'd. The deep gnome replies to him in his small, thin voice, "Would you by chance have any Sekaminus? It's a fungus vodka from the Darklands’ layer of Sekamina." Hrim prepares for disappointment but holds a little hope for his favorite beverage.
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The shadow-filled chair is the first to answer Mattera Black, "We've all had a long process, months. And we continue to evolve yet. Don't get too attached to your current form."
The maitre'd nods politely to each of your drink orders, but upon receiving Hrimnagel's, he pauses for a moment before answering, "An interesting and rare choice, Sire. Allow me to see what we can do for you," then disappears into the back for about twenty minutes. Meanwhile, the glass is cleaned up by the wait staff quickly and quietly, and Mettera's glass is replaced with a stylized metal chalice.
Then the maitre'd returns, and presents a bottle of Sekaminus to Hrimnagel. "I hope this would be to your satisfaction, Sire? I had to have a runner fetch it for you, as it is not something we normally have in stock, but Master Argor insisted that everyone's exact request be fulfilled."
It is then that Argor and Imrizade arrive, dressed in finery of their own. He smiles broadly to his guests before saying, "Welcome to The Golden Raven!" holding out his arms as he gestures to their surroundings. "I trust that everything is, thus far, to your satisfaction?"
He makes his way over to his chair, and as he does so, those of you with keen senses of smell catch the hint of sulfur obscured by cologne, moments before Rutai materializes beside Argor, dressed in his own classy regalia. The imp takes a seat on the tiny chair atop the pedestal, as Argor and Imrizade take their seats as well.
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"Fair enough." Mattera regarded the shadowed gnome. Though the dossiers were fairly accurate, he imagined he would gain a bit more insight on how the group worked if they spoke for themselves. "So, why don't you all enlighten me as to each of your strengths and the way you comport yourselves in combat and negotiations? The more I know, the more I can make sure I don't get in your way and vice versa."
The tian man sniffed the air as Argor sat down, recognizing both smells and realizing the one was meant to mask the other. At least possibly. He still was getting a bearing on what the strength of things was with his new body. "I know Hrimnagel is scout and archer, but as for the rest of you I could put forth my guesses, but I'd rather hear it from you."
When the waitress looks at him expectantly as he had delayed pleasure for business, he thinks for a moment and orders the Smoked Shellfish and Sharp Cheese along with a Merlot. "As for me, I like to get right up to the threat and knock it down if it comes to it. I've also been trained in observation, so I can stop trouble sometimes even before it starts. All I ask is that you don't lie to me. I can usually tell, and I don't generally react in what most people consider a civil manner. In Druma all crime is ruthlessly dealt with, and sometimes I act out of instinct in such matters." He glanced over at the imp with a bit of curiosity and a good measure of intensity before moving on.
When his drink came he looked at it with anticipation, but hesitated. "Could I get this in a metal cup like Hrim's?"
"Oh yes," escapes the deep gnome's lips. The maitre'd properly pours the crystal clear Sekaminus into the glass. Shadows engulf the glass and obscure Hrimnagel's selfish delight when he starts to drink.
Unfortunately, after a minute or so of pure joy, his feelings crash into melancholy as memories of his home and dead friends return in a tidal wave. He looks up when Mattera uses his name but doesn't really follow the conversation with the weight of his emotions pinning him to his chair.
"A fair and wise inquiry, Mr. Black. I, if you weren't already aware, am a master of conjurative arcana, capable of calling forth servants from realities beyond this one to do my bidding for prolonged periods of time, at least when compared to the summons of lesser conjurers. Beyond my expertise in such direct offensive measures, I am capable of mastering most any spell, should I take the time to give it proper study. And, surely, my expertise in matters both economic and social require no explanation, as in less than a year, I have acquired and operated two of the most successful new businesses in the city, gained rights to a portion of the docks, and acquired rank and title within the city itself as well as the Arcanamirium," he then turns and smiles to Imrizade, "not to mention being betrothed to the most amazing and beautiful woman in the city."
He takes a sip of wine before asking in kind, "And what about your business dealings, if I might ask? Are your services currently under contract?"
Cladissa bounces up from her seat when Argor arrives and goes to give Imrizade a hug. She fawns over the Blakros daughter's dress for a bit when they separate, then slinks back to her seat. Cole takes this moment to jump into Cladissa's lap and she scratches behind his ears while she listens to everyone.
Her ears twitch while Argor recounts his myriad accomplishments, but she stays silent. When it's her turn, she clears her throat. "Well, I'm a witch. My spell set is different from Argor's; and I can hex our enemies, stripping the strands of favor from them as well as suppressing their strength. I guess you could say I'm a bad luck charm, but hopefully more for our foes than for us."
She holds up Cole under his chest. "And this is Cole, my familiar. He's my longest and dearest friend." She turns him around and nuzzles him against her nose, while the midnight black cat endures the affection with quiet dignity.
When Argor refers to her as the most amazing and beautiful woman Imrizade quirks an eye brow. "One thinks thou doth flatter too much," she says sardonically. She orders a cocktail made with strawberries, sugar, crushed ice and a top shelf Garundi liqour made from agave.
"It's great to see you guys outside of a dungeon or some formal social occasion. Have you learned any new spells lately?" she asks Cladissa. "Where is Nyugusk? Lost in his beakers again?"
"It's great to see you guys outside of a dungeon or some formal social occasion. Have you learned any new spells lately?" she asks Cladissa.
"I have!" she says excitedly. "Including a spell that would have been very useful during our last fight. See invisibility. That, plus glitterdust should make for less harrowing encounters," she smiles.
Turning to Mettera, she inquires, "Have you mostly had experience fighting other humanoids? Since if so, you may be in for a shock."
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Mattera listens to Argor's list of accomplishments impassively, as he gingerly attempted to drink. He made a bit of a face and set down his metal goblet, albiet with slight indentations where his fingers were. During that time, he kept an eye on Imrizade.
"Ah yes. Employment is troublesome when the Society has demands. I was forced to go on leave with my previous employer. But I don't live in such a way as to need funds. It's bad for business to be desperate. The way you ask makes me think you'll want to hire me. It would be convenient I wager, but you'll have to make me an offer I'll like before I think of it." He takes another sip, this time with a slightly more delicate flair.
When Classida asked him about his experience, he smirked a little. "It's true that my adventures have not been as colorful as yours, but it doesn't matter what I face. I win. It only takes me one good shot to knock down near anything, well at least it did. But I doubt I'm less good at fighting today than I was yesterday."
The man is truly confident in his abilities. And at least he is somewhat well spoken, for a brute. And, based on his reputation, he is quite good with legal documents. If I were to indeed find a tolerable bodyguard anywhere, this may be it.
"Certainly. But lets save private business discussions for later, agreed?"
The serving staff begin bringing forth the food orders of those gathered, Argor having the braised shellfish, and Rutai a small portion of the poached phoenix.
As they eat, Argor sits quietly until he has completed his meal. After half an hour or so of casual conversation, he finds a pause in the conversation to interject. "There are a couple of things I wanted to discuss with you all, as a group, before the Society takes it upon themselves to approach us with a new mission. The primary one being, the addition of another member to our team, aside from Mr. Black here. In truth, I speak of Rutai. He is far more than just my familiar, but a savvy tactician and capable user of magical devices. In particular, I speak of wands. He used the long relied upon infernal healing wand aptly during our previous encounter, and Cladissa has agreed to entrust him with our newer healing wand as well. However, she particularly has expressed her own distrust of him, as well as her desire to avoid contact with him. While I understand, and respect, her concerns on the matter, the fact remains he will be accompanying us on all of our missions going forward, and will be an important part of our team."
Rutai, having been silent thus far, stands on the pedestal his seat resides on, and bows before the team. "A pleasure to finally be properly introduced to you all. Please, no need to bother yourselves with introductions, Argor has spoken to me about you all at length. And, Ms. Velorryan, I too respect your feelings towards me, regarding my heritage, but I would beg you to reconsider. It is a common misconception among the mortal races to lump my kind in with the demonic wretches of some of the other planes of existence, not that I'm saying this is what you have done, as I know you are an intelligent woman! But it is a common stereotype, all the same."
"I have been serving as a familiar for ages to powerful wizards, sorcerers, and once even to a particularly...well, the simplest way to put it would be odd, gnomish warlock. Talk about an experience you'd want to forget! Anyway, the point is, in all those years of service, and the eons in between spent on my home plane, there is one, definitive fact that I have come to terms with: I like it here! I have no ties to my home plane beyond it being the place I was created. And when I have been there, I'm treated no better than a slave or errand boy! And of all the masters on this plane I have served, there were only two that have ever treated me with any sort of respect: Strathix Constantine, and Argor. I just hope that, in time, you," he bows his head to Cladissa, then turns and gestures to everyone else gathered, "all of you, grow to see me not as a threat, but as an ally."
Argor adds, "To that end, there is another important matter that I feel we should discuss. Given his inborn talent with magical devices, I think it would be a wise investment to have one crafted for him to use in dangerous situations, beyond a healing capacity. As we have with the previous two wands, I think we should pool some resources to have one prepared, but exactly what type of magic to place within it? I have my own thoughts on the matter, but I wanted to hear your opinions first."
Cladissa's ears flatten as her eyes narrow at Rutai. "Spare me your unctuous words. I have no need for flattery or advice from you. I haven't changed my mind, nor do I intend to."
Turning to Argor, she says softly, "I don't have an opinion, sorry."
Cladissa looks down at Cole as he meows softly, and she nods. "I agree." She turns her head to face the front of the table. "He's your servant, so whatever you feel appropriate." Hopefully he can keep this master alive. It sounds like he's had a poor track record, she thinks bitterly.
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Mettera looked the imp over, squinting his eyes and looking deeply into the mannerisms of the planar being as he spoke. As Argor moved the matter toward his usefulness, the Tian lost interest and watched Cladissa with her naked mistrust of the being, likely due to prejudice. Some of that was fine, as it tended find itself true in most situations, including ones the imp himself confirmed.
"So you're relatively new as well." He said, suddenly realizing his food was getting a bit cold from all the conversations he was taking part in. "I've had to make deals and honor contracts from normally evil beings such as hobgoblins in the past. Sometimes it goes well, slightly more often it does not. But the risk has to be worth the reward. Having magical healing is terribly useful, even better when it can be received along side of regular combat action, so I will say that such things can be beneficial. Other minor magics may be as beneficial in the right circumstances."
He took a bite of his shellfish with the small fork used for such things, bringing out nothing but a stump of a handle. He bit off the tines without even thinking about it, but it did enhance the flavor slightly, and made his mouth tingle a bit with pleasure. It seemed he had really developed expensive tastes. Swallowing quickly and returning his attention to the imp he continued. "I will treat you cordially, but I do not relax my attention. If you are being honest, I will allow you continue to benefit the team. If you pose any threat through action or inaction to the life or well-being of my group, or if you wantonly break laws or contracts in my presence for your own personal gain, I'll have no trouble reimbursing Argor for a replacement."
Taking a bit of cheese to let the last statement sit a moment, he continued when he felt it had maximum impact. "I only threaten once, and now that we have it out of the way, I hope to have a mutually profitable relationship." The smile he gave was fairly genuine, but so was the threat. It may be that Argor needed a bodyguard from his own familiar, and maybe he had made other enemies. Time might tell, or perhaps their own private conversation at a later date. It felt good to be kept on his toes, more like home than he'd felt in a fair amount of months.
Nyugusk is busily working in his lab right up until moments before the carriage arrives. When Hrim tells him that it's there, he brushes his hands off on his work apron and then snaps his fingers, turning his outfit into a splendid purple velvet suit.
On the carriage ride he chats some with Hrimnagel, but as they arrive he says, "Oh! Hold on! I think I may've figured out what wasn't working in my experiments this morning."
He takes out a sheath of papers and a quill and begins scribbling, making calculations, crossing things out, and then scribbling again. "I'll just be a minute..." he calls as Hrim silently leaves the carriage..but of course he gets caught up in his work again and minutes go by before he the carriage driver tentatively clears his throat. Ahh, so close! Well, this'll just have to wait, I guess...
With hestitation he enters the fine restaurant and is guided to the table where his comrades sit.
Still shuffling his papers, he says "Terribly sorry, but I had a fascinating insight into a possible method for balancing sanguine and phlegmatic humors using a mixture of--" Looking over he realizes that a waiter is trying to hand him a menu and noone shares this particular fascination, and he says, "Hmm, perhaps later. Let me see here. Stewed Shark and Turnip sounds fine, thank you.
"What did I miss?"
Hrim clears his throat to attract attention to his shadow-filled chair. "Argor, I've never had an opinion about with whom you, Cladissa, or Nyug want to associate whether bird, cat or um... um... tumor, right? Anyway, for me, they are an extension of yourselves. However, devils are different. They aren't animals gaining sentience. They are outsiders who want to gain access to our world. Devils appear to me to more predictable than other outsiders; they are still dangerous. We need to take Rutai's relationship with us slowly. This supper is a good step, but I believe Rutai must earn our loyalty through acts."
"As for pooling our resources, what did you have in mind? I'm not a wealthy business owner like you are Argor."
He took a bite of his shellfish with the small fork used for such things, bringing out nothing but a stump of a handle. He bit off the tines without even thinking about it, but it did enhance the flavor slightly, and made his mouth tingle a bit with pleasure. It seemed he had really developed expensive tastes. Swallowing quickly and returning his attention to the imp he continued. "I will treat you cordially, but I do not relax my attention. If you are being honest, I will allow you continue to benefit the team. If you pose any threat through action or inaction to the life or well-being of my group, or if you wantonly break laws or contracts in my presence for your own personal gain, I'll have no trouble reimbursing Argor for a replacement."
Imrizade quirks one of her eyebrows. "Maybe you aren't aware Mettera, but devils are inherently lawful beings. They cannot willingly break laws or contracts. Perhaps you are making the mistake Argor mentioned of taking them for demons. In any case, I think Rutai's own self interest is to help your team. If he gets sent back to hell, his life will be much worse."
Rutai sighs and sits back in his chair, and plays with the remaining bit of food there with his fork as he mutters to himself, "Guess flying around frantically trying to keep Nyugusk alive counts for nothing..."
Argor turns to Hrimnagel, and answers "What I had in mind, Hrimnagel, was a wand of enhancement for our group. Something along the lines of a hasting effect, or perhaps a spell to enhance the potency of our attacks, even a binding spell like the tentacles Cladissa conjured against the succubus."
He then turns to Cladissa, adding "Also, given my position as Varlokkur, he is well aware that I would not tolerate any breaches of Absalom law."