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"Arthrax of the Grand Lodge, my lady. And you are quite welcome. As my friend here states, we are quite interested in things beyond flashing and stealing, though we are not above such things, either." He laughs at his own jest, being that sort of fellow.
"Truly, though, it is trade and partnerships of mutual benefit that bring us here tonight."
"You seem quite versed in the local goings on. Impressive. What beings me here? To pay my respects of course. I have much business going on back home, but while I am here, well who knows what opportunity might come my way."
"Well met, Arthrax of the Grand Lodge. Besides stocking your local pubs with some lagers, what else can the Society offer to a poor spirits merchant like myself."
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"You seem quite versed in the local goings on. Impressive. What beings me here? To pay my respects of course. I have much business going on back home, but while I am here, well who knows what opportunity might come my way."
"Opportunities indeed," replies Methodios cheerily, "Why, I hear tell that you are in the business of shipping arms to Taldor. While that august nation is no doubt deserving of such trade, did you know that the Pathfinder Society is also in need of arms? Our war on the demons of the Worldwound is growing to a head this year, it seems, and our campaigners and their allies are always in the need of quality armaments - and replacement clothing! Though bandages, now that I think of it, are probably more sorely needed. Shouldn't be a problem for a textiles trader such as yourself, yes?
"Anyway, as you say, we are here to pay our respects at a funeral. Just do keep the Society in mind. We are always looking to establish new trading partners."
When he is done, Methodios looks around for someone who seems likely to be able to open these damned windows. He doesn't like to admit it, but the heat is getting to him as much as the other guests. I'll stand security myself if I have to - anything to rid this place of this stifling indoor humidity!
A look of sadness crosses her face. She looks Arthrax in the eyes. "There is another ... matter that I do need help with." She rings her hands, looking around. "I seem to have acquired a bit of debt currently. I meet some friends who vowed to help me. I am not sure if that was the best decision. If I could get that matter taken care of, well I would be more apt to do business with someone who gave me more lenient terms." She quickly glances around before giving Arthrax a pleading look.
"Really? That is not what we call common knowledge, my deal in Taldor. I have heard that your society likes to kill creatures, need lot of weapons for that. But I don't manufacture the weapons myself, more of an intermediary. Metella has the arms, I get them to Andor. From what I understand, the Society is doing well on the arms from the Five Kings Mountain. Now Cheliax, that nation likes to fight and kill, am I right? If you had a better lead, possibly something in the River Kingdoms, I'd be more than willing to listen. Until then, if you will excuse me." The clean shaven man makes his way towards Umut Tepemkau, the cleric of Pharasma, officiating ceremony.
"I ... I ... I can't say. Just that I would perfer to work with someone else."
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Given that his current line of inquiries is completed, Z'hor'll will make his way to Jakti.
"Good day, my fine sir. I have heard tell that we might have a common interest? That we both are explorers, seekers of knowledge, discoverers of ancient treasures! Why, I should say, that is truly the Pathfinder Society in a nutshell!
"Oh, where are my manners? I am Z'hor'll, the soon to be famous, or I should hope to be!"
"Well met. Tiberius and I were just discussing our exploits. Have one to share?" he says will fingering his holy symbol in the folds of his robe.
"I do like a good cause, and there are many ways to make a payment. What is worth a lot to one, is worthless to another. A wise merchant can connect those to for quite the profit. Which side do you support?"
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"I am not a man of politics, but a simple tradesman. In this conflict, I support the side which profits me most." Tiberius smiles, but then raises his finger. "But do not take me as a heartless man, sometimes I do take sides - even if the side does not smell of gold coins. But Galt... My world stays the same regardless which side gets the edge. "
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Turning around to see that no-one else is there, Methodios moves over to Jakti to say hello as well, "Adventure seems to be all the rage these days. Alas, I can't say I've had much of the traditional kind in my lifetime - more of a tradesman myself.
"My first true adventure, I guess, was traveling from Egorian to Absalom. Now, we didn't encounter any troubles on the road, but that's not the kind of adventure I was talking about. Tell me, Lord al'Awar, have you ever heard of the Paracountess Zarta Dralneen...?"
The large man turns towards Methodios, "Chelixan? Devil worshiper are you now?" What that he turns his back towards Methodios.
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"Well that was more than a little rude," says Methodios, stepping back into Jakti's field of vision, "Since you are Keleshi, am I to assume you fück horses and rub spices into your balls in order to maintain an erection? Of course not. I do not buy in to racial stereotypes - and I would imagine a scholar and trader would have a more open mind when it comes to such things.
"You may have noticed that I am not in Cheliax anymore, this is by choice. Many in my homeland have odd traditions, but I understand them - even if I do not follow them myself. But I am not here on behalf of my country. I am here on behalf of the Pathfinders, and a lucky thing for you, too. Otherwise, I might teach you a lesson in tolerance."
With that, and a spit on the ground, Methodios exits towards the same place the other merchants have disappeared to. I am thoroughly done with this crowd. Preening arse-holes.
His bodyguards moving a stop closer, Jakti waves them off.
"I am be both a trader and a scholar, but I also choose whom I trade with. I look for qualities in my trading partners. Your Society, though large and at times well funded, would see me great profits. Yet with so varied an organization what do you stand for? What is the character of your employees? That means much to me."
As he speaks he looks at Methodios, Z'hor'll and Tiberius.
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"We are of many colours, me and my associates. Ask a hundred Society agents what drives him, and you'll get a hundred different answers. What unifies us, is..." Tiberius takes a pose, and starts reciting: "'Explore, Report, Cooperate'. There, that's the code."
The Varisian relaxes, leans in and lowers his voice slightly. "Of course, within the Society, members might join factions of like-minded individuals. Mine, following Gu.. ah.. Trade Prince al'Hakam, believes firmly that prestige and influence is gained by trade, and trade is a worthy goal by itself."
Damn, almost slipped Uncle Karela's name there... Still hard to swallow he is no longer in charge...
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"As my friend, Tiberius, said. There are Pathfinders, and there are Pathfinders." says Z'hor'll. "However, over the last few years, I believe that the Pathfinder Society has been going out of its way to protect the people of Golarion. There was that Lissalan cult that sprung up in Varisia; eventually putting down a Runelord that rose up out of some time vault. Even now, hundreds, if not thousands, of Pathfinders are on their way up to the Worldwound, putting the fight to the demonic hordes. We were there to defend Nerosyn, the Diamond City, and we will be there to push back the hordes now, at great expense of life and materiel!"
He thinks a moment, and then continues, briefly. "But, what do we stand for? We are really a band of adventurers, seekers of knowledge. We explore, we report, and we cooperate. The last of these is perhaps our most important tenant, for as I see it, we cooperate not only with our fellow agents, but with the people in the areas we explore, the nations who allow us to investigate, and in fact all of the people of Golarion, at least those allow us to. We would be honored to be able to cooperate with you and your company. The River Kingdoms? Well, at this time, caravans of crusading Pathfinders are moving through those areas on their way to Mendev and the Worldwound. I am sure that there is ample opportunity for joint profit up there."
"I understand that your society as a whole contains many diverse cultures and beliefs. I was really hoping to get a better gauge of what you all believe, and what Aaqir al’Hakam believes. We have time yet, for further conversation. Now if you will excuse me, I fear this heat is getting to me." He moves off, his bodyguards flanking him.
Aid Another
You can help someone achieve success on a skill check by making the same kind of skill check in a cooperative effort. If you roll a 10 or higher on your check, the character you're helping gets a +2 bonus on his or her check. (You can't take 10 on a skill check to aid another.) In many cases, a character's help won't be beneficial, or only a limited number of characters can help at once.
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"Esteemed Ghawth," Tiberius approaches the mulazim, having no idea how to address such a person. Neither he has any idea what a mulazim actually does, but he believes the man is closest thing to being in charge after Trade Prince's departure. "The guests are complaining about the heat... Could we not open the windows for a moment? We want the in good spirits so we can win their favour... If you are worried about spying, let us just keep them open for a while, and let the wind refresh this stale air. We can close them before we start any negotiations. Besides, any spy worth his salt would use magical means instead of open windows..."
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"Hey there, my friends!" Methodios greets the household staff, "Come now, the windows need opening. It would not do to have another Merchant Prince expire from all this heat! Earn the thanks of your betters, and I will personally keep an eye out for spies."
Methodios's attitude is abrasive, though he raises some good points. Hopefully, Z'hor'll will be able to sway the staff.
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Methodios is more dextrous than he is charismatic. He pockets the false speech that Metalla wrote. I"ll leave it there, and let someone else explain it to Pellius and convince him it's genuine.
Striding forth as though he owns the place, Methodios spies the snuffbox and makes like he is placing the speech beneath it. As a few eyes turn his way, he bows, sweeping the box up under his shirt as he does so. Hoping no-one can spot the bulge, he simply walks away.
The servant that Arthrax is speaking to goes ashen white in the face. He looks over his shoulder, looking for someone, anyone other than him to be here, in front of this man. Visibly shaking, he stammers, "Sir, yes sir ...um .... yes the windows, well you see we were told to keep them shut ... but I can see that you want them open, and well really I have been on a cold streak with the bones lately, usually they are my friends." realizing what he is saying, he comes quickly out of it.
"Aaqib, Ma'awiya." he shouts clapping his hands. "Get some windows open, the guests are not used to our heat. There, unlatch that one, and get the ones by the apartments. Quickly you goat humpers."
As Methodios reaching into Passad's pouch to retrieve the snuff box. He slowly reaches in, grabs the box, and is withdrawing it. A slow grin splits his face. Passad, completely unaware of what is transpiring, continues his conversation.
"Damn Ramariz, charging their blasted tolls. I would love to buy a small army and stick those masks straight up their ass."
Just as the snuff box comes clear, a servant comes within Passad's 'personal space' radius, and Passad shifts slightly, jarring Methodios's hand causing the Chelixan man to drop the snuff box.
Spinning around, Passad curses the Methodios. "Touch me again, and another body will join Zarmina on the bier." Scooping up the snuff box, he strides angrily away.
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"Er, sorry..." says Methodios weakly, "Don't suppose you'd be willing to give me a pinch?" As though already knowing what the answer will be, Methodios slinks off at the first sign of Passad's flared nostrils.
Well, I hope he thinks I'm a drug fiend and not working for his Dwarven rival. As Methodios rounds the corridor and feels the fresh breeze on his face from the newly opened windows, he has a further thought, You know what? I tried. From here, I really don't give a sh*t.
The Pathfinders see Mulāzim approach Aaqir. The two carry on a hushed conversation, heads bowed close together. They can see the trade prince glance frequently towards the Pathfinders.
After their conversation is ended, the Mulāzim glides off, while Aaqir strides boldly up to them.
"Well I hear that congratulations are in order. You seemed to have only strengthened the already lucrative relationship we have with Metella. As you know Pellius's fate seems intertwined with that of Metella.
Something you said also seemed to have struck a chord with the usually impassive Jakti. He is a tough nut to crack.
Now Passad." At this he shakes his head. "I hear that things did not go so well with the Kalistrocrat. You have time to repair that relations, should you choose to.
And Doritannia. She seems in a somber mood. More so than I remember.
So what think you? Who should I pursue further business relations with? What knowledge did you glean from conversing with these pillars of trade?"
He looks eagerly at the Pathfinders.
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"Anyone but that pompous git Passad," Methodios grumbles, "Pellius doesn't seem to bad for an Andoran. Jakti is probably best served stuck to his own prejudices... but if we're making inroads, keep it going. We can probably have a better crack at Doritannia... didn't even speak to her, myself. So, yeah, the first three, I'd say."
Methodios looks around to see if his companions confirm his suggestions or not, but the man is clearly out of his depth in this kind of situation.
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"I agree with Methodios about the three that we seemed to make progress with. As far as Doritannia goes, it depends on what you are looking for. As a 'partner', I believe you would find her lacking. If you are looking for a supplicant, then she is all but yours. She has made bad business arrangements, is in terrible debt, and seems desperate to find a 'better' trading partner. You could be that partner, should you desire, sir."
Arthrax, we all fall on hard times from time to time. If not for the grace of Zarmina, I too would be thrall to some rich merchant. Should I show her grace, and allow her to keep her dignity, I think that I would get a willing friend for life. I appreciate the insight." He quickly turns to his Mulāzim. After a whispered conversation, the Mulāzim moves off and begins talking to Doritannia.
"Well friends, as the day closes, we will begin the services soon. As official representatives of the Pathfinder Society, it will be expected for you to give a short speech and present your gift. I know that you didn't know Zarmina, but a few kind words will go a long way. This will also be an opportunity for you to assist me strengthening the fresh bonds that you initiated for me today. Try to weave in some nice words for a merchant, and I am sure that will go along way to solidifying those bonds." With that he moves away.
As the shadows lengthen, the cleric Umut emerges from the temple, calls for the guests’ attention, and requests they honor the deceased. With that, a somber Aaqir al’Hakam and several other members of the Bahjari household carry an understated wooden bier bearing the shrouded body of Zarmina through the front door, up the stairs, and into the temple. As the bearers bring the body in, the Pathfinders can see the anguish on Aaqir’s face. The guests follow the procession up the stairs silently. Once they reach the temple, they file in taking seats in the pews on either side of the temple. Inside the temple Aaqir al’Hakam and the others lay the bier atop the altar of Sarenrae, and then take their seats in the front pews.
Umut begins, ”We thank Sarenrae for consecrating this holy place, and may the Dawnflower watch over all of you. Friends, as we were with Zarimina in the beginning, bloody, painful, screaming as she was thrust in this world, emerging through her mother’s legs, so we are here as she enters into the next phase of her existence. The noble Zarmina Bahjari, has died, and has returned to our lady of eternity, who shepherds the deceased to an everlasting afterlife.
We are grateful for the days in which she bequeathed to us her advice on the many aspects of a complicated life. Before we bid her soul a safe voyage down the River of Souls, please come forward, and place any gifts that you have brought to accompany to her on the dais.”
Doritannia is the first to come forward. She places a small golden scale on the dais. ” Zarmina was a great business partner, and an even better friend. Her word, like Passad's, was as good as gold. Her business deals were legendary over the Inner Sea. None were like her and she will be sorely missed. We are fortunate to have a fine man like Passad to certainly carry Zarmina’s torch of fair business practices in to the future.”
Passad nods as Doritannia speaks, as if this was all expected.
Passad follows Doritannia. He places an intricately carved jewel on the dais. From one vantage point, it sparkles red like a ruby, or maybe blue like a sapphire, from another its sparkles green like an emerald, and from another, it sparkles clear like a perfect cut diamond. None have seen a jewel like that.
”Friends, we all mourn the loss of one so great as Zarmina. Who among us would have turned down a deal from her? Who among us lost money dealing with her? Who among us can honestly say they we did not learn from her dealings? Who shall we turn to now? What matters most, what really mattered to Zarmina, is that trade continues. Good trade. Honest trade. “ Turning to the body, he gives it the briefest of nods before returning to his seat.
Before he reaches his seat in the pew, Metella rises from her seat and stands in the aisle. Passad pauses, indecision clouding his face. Metella’s face splits wide in a grin as she moves towards him. Stepping deftly to the side, Passad avoids physical contact with the dwarf, but looks embarrassed as he takes his seat.
The dwarven merchants brings a simple stone to the dais. Withdrawing a small golden hammer, she strikes the stone. It splits perfectly in half, revealing a gem as splendid as Passad’s. The assembled gasp in astonishment at the small display.
”Zarmina was a true friend; Loyal in her dealings, honest in her negotiations, traditional in her life. She embodied all we wanted to be. She will live on as the model for what we all should strive to be. We will miss you.”
As Metella returns to her seat, Pellius strides forward. He removes a small censer, and a bag of herbs. Lighting the herbs, an sweet aroma fills the room. The as the small smoke cloud roils through the temple, the assembled can feel their spirits lifting, and restrained sense of euphoria fills their mind.
”If you please, the effects of the incense is momentary, only meant to lighten the mood on this most somber of occasions. As I reflect on my dealings with Zarmina, they are like crafted dwarven stone—enduring, beautiful, and formed gradually over many years of virtuous work. Few can compare with her, yet there are some in this room that understand what she meant to us and mean to honor all that she has done.” As Pellius speaks, the Pathfinders can see that initially, Metella Rauger is somewhat embarrassed by this reference, but by the end of his short speech, she is smiling in appreciation.
Lastly, Jakti approaches the dais. He places a gift of a gold and jewel-embellished ledger. ” Friends, we must honor Zarmina for having lived a virtuous and charitable life yet suffering neither the kowtowing of sycophants nor the underhandedness of villains. In life, we choose who to sell to, what to sell, and for how much. We know what people need, what people want, and what people can afford. All of her dealings were virtuous, and honorable. Can you all say the same?”
As the last of the merchants takes his seat, his bodyguards behind him, the Mulāzim indicated that the Pathfinders should bring their gift to the dais and make their speech now.
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Everyone is surprised when Methodios takes the stand, "Honored guests, I am Methodios of the Pathfinder Society. We come to honor a great and noble woman, whose loss cannot be measured in words alone. I am not much for words, so it is my pleasure to introduce to you , who will formally present our gift to Trade Princess Zarmina Bahjari."
"It was Zarmina who first took notice of a me, a young man working in my uncle’s caravansary company. I demonstrated a talent for haggling and negotiation far greater than my peers, and so Zarmina fashioned a test for me. She offered me the chance to manage my own caravan and tasked me to undertake a dangerous journey across the waters of the Inner Sea to Absalom.
There I met with Zarmina’s trade associates to negotiate an exchange of spices for silks. It was like a camel takes to sand. Upon my return to Katheer, I delivered a good deal more that the silks originally requested, including a number of new business partners who had found the me charming and sought further business with Zarmina and I.
Zarmina was so pleased with my performance, she took me on as a student. After several years in her service, my name finally came to the satrap’s attention. Within 2 years, I had earned the title of trade prince, spearheaded a growing faction in the Pathfinder Society, and departed for Absalom. All of this I owe to Zarmina.
Laughing merrily, "Far be it from me to offer advice to one so accomplished as you, my friend. Do what feels right. And remember, all assembled are masters of trade, so a bigger bunch of liars you will never see."