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Percival opens his eyes and watches Kasei on his approach, and then his katana being put to whetstone.
Awfully nice piece'a steel for a holy man. Shouldn't have much to worry about with him... the holy ones have honor, and that makes 'em honest.
Percival acknowledges Kasei's arrival with a nod, closes his eyes, and continues lounging.
Fresh from your induction into the Society and the completion of your basic training within the organization, you find yourselves in the office of Ambrus Valsin, the venture-captain in charge of daily operations in and around the Grand Lodge. The efficient and straightforward chamberlain greets you curtly and motions for you to sit before Ambrus jumps straight into your assignment.
“All right, Pathfinders! Listen up. I know you are new recruits eager to make names for yourselves in the organization, but first we need to make sure you are up to snuff and won’t get yourself killed out there. I have a number of small assignments for you and your team, and it would be best if you could finish them before the day’s end."
“Every day we get some doe-eyed hopeful or some sniveling bootlicker willing to do anything to join up with the Pathfinders. Most of them are good kids, but not all of them have the salt to make it in a world like this. It’s rough out there and I’m not just talking about the ruins, tombs, and wilderness Pathfinders find themselves in on missions. We’ve got people who look down their noses at us, folks who think we squander our resources, and agents who want to take everything we have collected. This wealth of knowledge and these items of lore make us the most powerful organization on the planet. That said, since we are fractured and widespread, it’s difficult for that power to light on anything for too long. For every friend of the Society, there are two enemies."
“Your first mission, to test your mettle and loyalties, sends you to meet a few people important to the Society living here in Absalom. These are other venture-captains or close allies of our organization, so follow their orders as you would mine. I’ve prepared a list of things I want you to do. They’re not arranged in any particular order of importance, but I want them all completed as quickly as possible. Only report to me once you complete them all. Included in the envelope you hold in your hands is the list, complete with the name of your contact, and directions to the meeting location.”
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Dressed in a ragged set of hide armor with a greatsword strapped to his back, the hulking Furios Mal looks more like a barbarian than a ranger.
Furios grabs the note from Ambrus, "You Pathfinders would be lucky to have me."
After a few moments of reading the note, he looks at the gathered crowd, "Yes I can read."
"Hmm no opportunity for tracking down some human quarry in this list, that's more my specialty, but I suppose I can be your errand boy."
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Percival watches the posturing, silently amused.
The half-beast thinks highly of hisself. I guess he's as good a scapegoat as any if things go sour. As fer honorable holy-man, I can't wait to hear the lectures he has in store for me.
"Mister Mal, I'm so very humbled t'be in the presence of such an accomplished... individual. Might I trouble you to look upon this list with my own lucky eyes?"
Harlynne arrival does not go unnoticed. That's a striking Chel right there. I imagine I shouldn't tell Eliza that these adventures are in mixed company. At least I have a chance of winning other fights.
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Introductions... I guess I'll indulge them.
"Parent's named me Percival. I earnt the nickname Priddy due to my charming good lucks." Any "charming good lucks" Percival might have had temporarily left him the moment he received the busted lip and black eye. "People that've known me longer 'an five minutes call me a bastard. Can't say the reputation isn't well-deserved." Percival grins, revealing a shockingly full set of teeth.
Percival appears dressed for combat -- studded leather armor, a heavy wooden shield strapped to his back, and longsword, ranseur, (coldiron) flail, and daggers holstered for use.
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Harlynne enters in a grand fashion. He Chelish nature obvious but obscured. She wears the typical garb of her Varisian ancestors as well including the vibrant tattoos that cover her body. The dress much like Seoni's leaves very little to the imagination, though her form is less vuluptous. The garb is obviously of Chelish design marking the typical cross in Black and Red.
She looks at the list and says, We go to see the Paracountess first. and begins heading out the door to see her mistress.
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She knows what she wants, I'll give her that. At least we'll start the day low-profile, though I imagine half-beast'll remedy that before midday. Honorable holy-man's gonna be in for a show if he hasn't heard of Dralneen before.
"You know what? Good as place as any I warrant. Mayhaps we'll be left with enough time an' energy to finish the other three tasks after our visit to Zarta."
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Kasei bows formally to Priddy, although less deeply than to Valsin. "Insults do not pass my lips, and I am sure your wounds were honorably earned."
At the woman's abruptness, Kasei raises one eyebrow. "Is that so? Might want to wait for the rest," says Kasei, bemusedly. Uncouth gaijin, he thinks. 'Priddy' has the courtesy to acknowledge me, at least.
Ambrus shakes his head at the half orc and doesn't even indulge him with a reply. He watches as you introduce yourselves and choose a location to go to first, then goes back to some paperwork on his desk.
Arriving at Paracountess Zarta Dralneen’s townhouse in the Ivy District—one of several homes the noblewoman keeps around Absalom—you come upon a magnificent gothic structure three stories in height. The ebon lacquered double doors wrought with gleaming silver fixtures greet you, a prickly brass cone hanging from a chain serving as the door chime. Moments after ringing it, a servant in loose casual attire opens the door, greeting your group as if expected. The servant remains quiet, explaining, “My mistress will answer any questions you have once we reach her quarters.” Led through well-appointed sitting rooms, ballrooms, and a grand stairway granting a view of an elaborate study, you finally arrive on the third floor of the house, at the door of Zarta’s personal study, which lies beyond her bedroom. Knocking upon the door and announcing his presence, the servant opens the darkly stained wooden door.
A large intricate carpet dominates the marble floor in this sitting room. A chaise sits along the north wall and a desk spans the southeast corner, its chair positioned with its back to the southwest corner of the room. Three comfortable chairs are positioned around a small, low circular table.
Sitting in the chair behind the desk, Paracountess Zarta Dralneen regards you with a wry smile, putting away a few papers before standing to address your group of hopeful Pathfinders.
“Aldor, you are dismissed. Close the door behind you and attend to your other tasks.” She then turns her attention to the group. “It’s always so incredibly adorable when I see a fresh faced batch of Pathfinders. I mean, look at you scrumptious little teacakes. I could eat each and every one of you up. Well, maybe not you.” Zarta points. “I assume this isn't a pleasure visit since most of you are terribly overdressed for that manner of occasion, so that must mean you are here for that trinket Valsin has been nagging me about. Seems I can’t get that man around these parts anymore,” she gestures, sliding her hand down her body and widening the gesture to sweep out and across the room as if her home were a secondary thought. “On the good side, he always sends me all the precious new recruits."
“Many think we in Cheliax serve and worship devils, but that couldn't be further from the truth. In fact, we use the creatures for their power. They serve us and we sculpt their power in our own interests. The world must come to terms with the order of things. People need to know their place and operate accordingly. It is the only way to make order from this world. Too many people stretch too far beyond their station, making waves and eroding the true order.”
As the paracountess talks, a cacophony of booms and crashes sounds from beyond the room’s west door. She sometimes pauses at an extended eruption of these noises before continuing with the conversation.
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Percival tries to work out whether it is him, Kasei, or Furios she pointed toward.
Pro'ly me. Half-beast could no-doubt provide the services she wants rendered, and I'd say she'd love nothing more than to make a man outta mister devout.
Percival leans close to Harlynne and whispers: You seem to know the good Paracountess already, would it trouble you to perform the negotiations?
Percival backs away and listens at the door for hints as to what might be causing the ruckus.
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Harlynne saunters up to the desk, making sure to give full extension of the legs so that the Paracountess takes note. She leans over the desk support herself with her hands, but also taking the opportunity to accentuate her breasts when talking to the Paracountess. She looks at Zarta with her baby blues and whispers I suppose the trinket is in there?
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Kasei stands impassively, his face giving no hint of what his thoughts are. When the sounds first erupt from thethe other room, he swiftlyand turns towards it in readiness, hand going to thethe hilt of his katana. When no danger presents itself he turns back, relaxing and, taking a cue from the paracountess, waits for the chelaxian member of their ad hoc group to do what she apparently did best. Just in case, though, he keeps his hand on his weapon in readiness.
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Kasei's got an itchy swordhand... knowing the company the Paracountess keeps, might be in my best interest to be prepared, too.
Percival watches Harlynne approach the desk, bending as she speaks with Zarta. If I were a younger man...
Percival whispers to Kasei while Harlynne negotiates, "So, Kasei... you strike me as a 'shock-and-awe' type of man. Allow me to get the door for you if this comes to blows?"
Zarta smiles at Harlynne and explains, “A servant is greatly misbehaving. You’re going to have to deal with it in order to get the trinket.” She goes over to the desk in her study, opening a drawer and drawing out an exquisite silver letter opener shaped like a dagger . “You might need this to get it to submit,” she offers with a sly grin and a wink.
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"Might be we have ourselves a stead that hasn't quite been fully... broken."
Percival moves in close to Furios, whispering: "We tame it for th' good Paracountess and get a reward, or we go a little too far and she gets herself a new puppy tomorrow. Her favors are legendary."
And painful. I've taken enough beatings in my life to know I wouldn't enjoy one in a boudoir.
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Kasei gives a bow to the Paracountess, deep and formal in the Minkaian tradition.
(Those familiar with the courtly traditions of the Successor States will notice that the bow has subtle aspects that make it appropriate for a samurai to give to a noble who is commanding him, but to whom he does not owe fealty.)
(Those EXTREMELY familiar with the intricacies of Minkai and Shokuru politics might notice even subtler aspects of the bow that suggest Kasei privately holds the person to whom he is bowing in the utmost contempt and is only obeying because of the orders of his superior.)
"We shall retrieve the item forthwith." Kasei moves to the door, his hand still on the hilt of his katana.
She grins and shrugs at Furius "I would hate to ruin the surprise, but I would imagine you could take a guess as to what types of servants I keep. In any case, you are Pathfinders are you not? You should be able to handle yourselves."
After the party prepares for what horrors they may face on the other side of the door, Priddy swings the doors open into the bedroom. Zarta’s bedroom is decorated in the colors of Cheliax—ebon black and crimson red. Silk, rare woods, and carefully carved marble compose every bit of furniture in the room. Goose down now litters the room, covering almost every surface and the silken shreds of the cushions that contained it lie about like flayed skin. A post on the massive screened bed is snapped in half, collapsed on the bed and drawing the screened curtains into a ripped slope of formerly fine cloth. Vials of perfume and crystal jars of other cosmetics sit smashed on the marble floor around the dresser. A prominent fixture in the room, a large “X” made of stout wood sits along the west wall, complete with leather shackles and chains. A table sits to its left strewn with various items intended for pleasure, but outwardly resembling implements of pain.
A small demonic creature is enraged and totally out of control. The creature desperately wants inside the box and throws it around the room hoping to smash the thing open. Though dented, the case doesn’t look like it will be opening anytime soon. The creature seems intent on breaking into the box and pays little attention as you open the door.