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"Psst, hey...half-orc."
She motions for the swindler to come closer.
"I know of an address where you can easily pawn that off."
"Take the 2nd street ahead, then the third alley on your right, right at the end. Ask for Gandrak."
"Though for this information, i'd say i deserve a humble compensation, say 50 coins. You'll make a profit anyway."
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The half-orc grins at Sophia. "Thanks, Snake Babe! But I'm a little short o' funds." Then he glances at Ambrus Valsin, who is glowering at the peddlar with the collection of battered wayfinders. "Besides, I just remembered an appointment for some terribly important business of a time-sensitive nature involvin' me not spending any time in the cells below Skywatch."
He darts through the crowds and runs out of the Grand Lodge, just as a scowling Ambrus Valsin whispers to some Pathfinders on guard duty to follow.
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As he's about to turn around to run off, her eyes lock onto his sharply, like a cobra about to lash out.
"Aw, but i would insist, information doesn't come cheap.
You know how this trade is, or i could have my underlings here kill you right here, right now."
If he still refuses to cough up the shinies, and tries to and run, Sophia casts Daze on him.
If he resists the spell...she holds a palm up bfore her mouth, inhales, and blows a glob of acid from it at the shady half-orc.
If it won't pose a risk in doing so, she does the following:
She sings a sweet lullaby, lowering perception of nearby people passing by 5.
If people would question her actions:
"He stole something from me, and i'm getting it back."
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Tiffany looks up from her indulgence in pasties and over at the big-chested man. "I'm Tiffany! And this here's Bebop. Say hi to Mort, Bebop." She looks over at the small toad as he laps up chunks of blowfly pie and ignores her request. "He can be quite rude when distracted," Tiffany smiles as she digs her own face into her meal again.
The peddlar of wayfinders barely makes his will save, but gets hit by a gob of acid as he bolts through the crowd of Pathfinders, guards on his heels. They continue to race through the crowd until the peddlar is gone. Valsin comes up and claps Sophia on the shoulder though. "Good show! I liked your initiative in clipping him, though I was hoping to apprehend that scoundrel. Imagine, making money off looted Pathfinders and then trying to sell the damaged wayfinders back to us. People like that are just scum."
He looks around the group, nodding to several of you, then he blinks as he studies at Mort. "Oh, you're back with us. Sorry I was so hard on you earlier, but I have to make sure that new Pathfinders know how to deal with civilians. Are you ready to prove your mettle again?"
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"Nice to meet you Tiffany, nice pet frog you've got there."
Mort makes a reasonable attempt to avoid the gaze of Valsin but fails so he just makes the best of it. "Umm, yes sir, sorry about that. Bad leadership in the group I suppose, I'll try to be more assertive now that I've got a mission under my belt." He then offers his hand in thanks for the second opportunity.
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"Wow, I didn't know that there would be so much entertainment while we wait for the big party-thing to get started," Corona laughs as she finishes the last bite or two of her pastie. She then turns to gaze curiously at Mort. "Oh no, did you get into trouble earlier New Friend Mort? What happened?"
Valsin nods to Mort. "Good to hear. Use your best judgment, and you'll go far." Then he nods to the rest of you. "I have to be go find my place. I hear one of the Ten may be speaking. It's not often we get assignments from the Decemvirate itself, so I'd best be ready." Running a hand through his meticulously groomed hair, he strides towards the front, leaving Mort the option to tell his own tale.
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Sophia crosses her arms in disappointment that the half-orc got away, but took comfort in knowledge that she did scare him off pretty good.
At a shoulder tapping of the VC, she looks sideways at the new face of the man.
"Well, perhaps you still can, sir. Gandrak, whom i've met only just last week after i was giving a performance, is a pawnstore holder.
Unfortunately for the half-orc, i -may- have forgotten to mention that he's a natural in reading people, and isn't kind on thieves. I know not what he'll do to the swindler, but chances are not unreasonable, that you can find the swindler at a guard station by tonight."
She chuckles softly.
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"An important mission? For Tiffany? Oh, how my name will ring throughout the land..." Her eyes wide, Tiffany swoons and stares off into the sky with her hands folded up into her neck.
Bebop hops up onto her shoulder and croaks. The croaks sound almost like two syllables: Prin-cess, and Tiffany is able to get the idea that Bebop is mocking her through their emphatic link. She suddenly scowls and whacks the warty toad off of her shoulder. "Shut it! That's not my name!" She looks back up at the group and forces a smile, hoping that no one had noticed.
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Mort turns to Corona at the question of his last mission "Well, I'll spare you the details but lets just say we were given a mission to do here in the city, and instead of being discreet or 'convincing', someone decided to try to get physical. No one was hurt or anything but guards were called and jail time resulted." Mort takes another bite of his pie and with a remorseless look on his face "I believe the two major offenders are still enjoying their stay as we speak. Needless to say, an important lesson was learned: Don't screw up, and don't get caught if you do." He double checks to be sure Valsin already headed off before he adds in the last bit.
"Well paying would be nice. I was really counting on the gold from that flubbed mission. What's an adventurer without some finely crafted gear." As he gestures to his tattered cloak and sun bleached studded leather. His greatsword on his back has also seen some time in the weather as well.
He then turns to the frog princess "Out for your own fortune and fame? I believe we all are, some just chase it harder than others..."
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"The only time I want to get physical with strangers is-" Sheela snaps her mouth shut. "Well, children may be watching. But I certainly approve of discretion or talking over a fight. And when that fails, scramble their brains until I'm their best friend!"
"Money would be nice, I guess. Grandmama says I have to spend my own money- no dipping into the family account." She shrugs.
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"I'd always heard that you shouldn't talk to strangers," Corona comments. "But that's silly! I make so many more New Friends by talking to strangers than anything else. Well, usually. Sometimes they just shriek, 'Go away you weirdo, you're scaring my children!' But that's okay, there's always someone that's happy to strike up a conversation."
"But payment is good, yes," she agrees. "That way you can keep eating and keep not having to sleep outside somewhere. And buy nice things."
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Go away you weirdo, you're scaring my children!'
Mort looks up from his oversized meat stuffed cookie. "Hrm, I can't say I usually hear that, mostly its just the quickened pace of shuffling feet when I furrow my brow at someone's annoying child." He wipes the grease off his chin on his cloak and continues with a serious look on his face "If you're going to go and have children the least you could do is teach them to behave, or if not, then leave them at home. Some common decency for the general public, never mind those poor shop owners!" He then winces a bit when he realizes his audience is mostly women of child bearing age. "Umm anyone have children here? If so I'm sure yours are far better than most."
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Tiffany folds her arms across her chest. "Let's not sugar coat it. It's obvious that you hate kids, Mort! Luckily for you, I don't have any. How can I chase fame and fortune and... shininess!.. If I'm constantly being held down by children? Nonsense. A life of adventure is much more pleasing, isn't it?" Bebop hops around in excitement.
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"Why is everyone staring at me..." She ponders.
"Children. Not any time soon, for me. But they have so much imagination! I met one child, he kept talking about an invisible friend following him, playing pranks. I didn't believe him until I used a scroll of see invisibility. The cutest little fairy was following him. It was so cute!"
"What are we talking about again? Sorry, I got derailed..." She giggles.
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"Well, the fairy..hmm, I'm not sure if it was good or evil. All of the adults hated the pranks they played but the kids loved it. Even when I fell into the pit it was more my fault than anything- too much elven wine." Sheela giggles.
"Traveling with the Pathfinder Society has been intriguing but... lots of sewers. And undead. Very smelly, and I can't scramble their brains much. We lost one..." she trails off, her enthusiasm waning, "but we avenged him. That felt great!" She seems to be a bit more courageous and zealous.
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"Zombies and sewers...? Ohhh, I hope we don't run into either this time," Corona frets. "I'd rather have another round with strange Harrow readings and fantastical critters!"
Then her expression grows somber. "I'm sorry you lost a friend but I'm glad you avenged him. I'm sure that made him very happy."
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Mort listens on as the ladies converse, as well as other pathfinders gathering to hear whatever news or announcement, or pastry party is on tap.
"Zombies, sewers, faeries... take your pick so long as the pay is fair and the guards aren't always looking over our shoulders." He finishes off the last of his pie and has a seat before they're all gone.
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A hush comes over the crowd as a woman in a mask appears on the stage in a puff of smoke.
You hear someone in the crowd mutter, "Bloody Decemvirate! With their showy entrances, they're worse than Drendle Dreng."
”The Decemvirate are truly grateful that so many of you have answered this summons to the Grand Lodge, for they, above all, know the trying lives that field agents endure. Indeed, you have only to look about this courtyard and gaze upon your colleagues to know they have come from all ends of Golarion to be among us. Look not grim, but rather determined, for this summons is not one brought of dire threat or terrible consequence. No! The Decemvirate has instead summoned you to taste the opportunity to enter the greatest contest of martial arts the world has ever known—the Ruby Phoenix Tournament”
”The legacy of Tian Xia’s legendary mystic arcanist, the nearly immortal Grandmaster Hao Jin, the Ruby Phoenix Tournament is held only once every ten years. The Tournament is run by Sifu Xho Nuo, Emissary of the Ruby Phoenix and sole heir to Hao Jin’s secrets. The prize for victory: an artifact pulled from Hao Jin’s fabled collection of the greatest wonders Golarion has ever known”
”Though Xho Nuo has made no formal announcement, we have learned the sifu has chosen to hold the qualifying round for this decade’s tournament here in Absalom. The Pathfinder Society has long sought to send one of its members to compete in this tournament. If our information is true, this means that for the first time, the Society has the opportunity to qualify a good number of its field agents. While the chance to glean an artifact from Hao Jin’s collection is enticing, that is hardly the entirety of our goal. However, I shall speak more on this subject at a later time”
”At present, we have learned that Xho Nuo plans to host a covert meeting to address all would-be contestants. Don’t get too excited though; it’s supposedly being held at a decrepit tavern in the Docks called the Devil’s Dregs. Go there and see what details you can pick up about the competition and the other entrants, but watch your backs. There’s little law to protect you down on the wharves, and it’d take a riot to raise any attention. Oh, and I wouldn’t expect an appearance from Xho Nuo either, as his social status prevents him from contact with such filthy and common places. My guess is that he’ll send one of his agents to rile up as many lowlifes as possible to serve as fodder for the first round of the contest”
”Lastly, though its likely Xho Nuo is aware of our interest in the competition, we need all our agents to maintain as much secrecy as possible. For all we know, he has deliberately chosen Absalom to bait our interests, so it’s imperative that he identify as few of our agents as possible. From here out, to keep our affiliations covert, we request all of you make arrangements for your stay outside the Grand Lodge. Try to pick a place that’s low key to avoid attention. Don’t worry about the cost though. The Decemvirate will pick up the tab. Good luck.”
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"1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6!" A pathfinder wearing the colors of a Grand Lodge runner comes by. She has a little monkey on her shoulder, and a flag on her spear bearing the logo of Wu Chai Tea. She's counting off groups. "1, 2, 3, 4, 5 and 6!" She counts all of you with a dazzling smile. "You're a team now! You heard the lady, go!"
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Mort watches as a curious little tart bearing a monkey points at him while proclaiming him to be 6 before running along to count more people. Looking around he notices the ladies he's been talking to were counted just ahead of him,not to mention the dock hand.
"Well, I guess we're working together today... at a martial tournament? He looks at the ladies with an unconvinced look in his eye." Well this should be interesting... "Where to first? The docks?"
All around you, vendors are packing up their carts. The little gnome with the wands is putting his back in the barrel, and a wayang with a stand full of alchemical supplies has started putting away his potions and vials.
The wayang happily sells you the potions. "Finally! I was afraid I would do no business here! Anyone else looking for anything? Ain't got all day here, you know!"
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"Oh, so we're going down to the docks to beat people up? Well...I guess it's for a good cause, right?" Corona smiles as she takes stock of her gear. "Hum...though I'm not really all that good at beating people up."
Her expression brightens.
"But fire is just as good, right? Mr. Potion Man! I'll take some bottled fire, and um...one of those exploding stones there please," she calls to the wayang.
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Tiffany's eyes grow nearly as wide as her body as she listens to the masked woman. "An ... An Artifact from Hao Jin's collection? Just think of what that might be worth, Bebop!" She says to the toad.
Once the speaker finishes, she turns to the others. "If we're heading to a dangerous part of town, I'm your girl." She spins her quarterstaff and folds up a net as she follows Mort, Yorad, and Corona to the docks.
‘Mr. Potion Man’ is indeed happy to take all your alchemical orders. He looks up at Corona with a crooked grin. “Just call me Shady. Use me for all your Shady Business!”
Your purchases done, you move on. Yorad does indeed know the dock area of Absalom, and leads you there.
In a quiet, rundown section of the Docks, you spot a weathered wooden sign hanging above a wide alcove that reads “Devil’s Dregs.” The area outside the tavern smells like what you’d expect... weathered wood and old fish. A pair of thick double doors within the alcove lead into the tavern. It looks like the word is out that something is happening here. Small teams, some of them that you recognize as fellow Pathfinders, and some that you do not, are streaming into the place.
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"Thanks New Friend Shady!" Corona waves as the party finishes their purchases and departs for the docks. "Anytime someone asks about shady business I'll send them to you!~"
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"Well, I guess this is the right place," Corona muses as they arrive at the Devil's Dregs to see all sorts of people already flooding inside. "Um...so I guess we just wander on in and blend in, right?" She frowns as she looks at the group of them; even she had to admit that they stood out a bit.
"Or at least try...?"