Alexander nearly misses his chance again by paralyzing his tongue, but the abundance of food opens the Kalistocrat up and he manages to strike a conversation.
Passad is somewhat of a coward, and easily falls prey to bullies using Intimidate to force him to increase his bidding beyond what he’s comfortable with. More social skills, such as Bluff or Diplomacy, can help the PCs talk Temel into throwing most of his wealth at Alabastrine. Finally, discussing the military viability of the Courts of Abstinence using Knowledge (history) prompts Temel to further his bidding.
Melea tries to follow Bambang's lead by discussing religion with the Petronax patriarch. However, her less-exotic faith in Erastil is not enough to intrigue the old man and he politely excuses himself to keep eating.
To her relief, Bambang joins the conversation soon enough, promoting the old Prophet of Kalistrade to maintain his bid for the Scriptum.
"It is quite a fascinating culture you bring with you to our nation. I hope I'll gain access to the Scriptum, if only to read more about the faiths of the east."
Irith listens to Lutorinus's flattery, a smirk creeping up her face.
"It would be my pleasure to live up to your expectations." She writes something on a napkin and hands it over across the table to Hegio, who's enjoying the small part of the feast a Kalistocrat is allowed to enjoy.
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Alaric nods, letting his companions come and go, teasing out information and further co-opting the Kalistocrats into tearing away Alabistrine from Myrosype.
The Kellid does not quite know how to properly remove the barbs. However, their poison does not seem to have any effect on him. Joining Lutorinus, he nods in agreement. "I was just telling Father Exuberia how you turn this place... Around? Yes. Is impressive. I ... Imagine? Yes. I imagine leading Alabistrine is like eating Churl tentacle. It takes... Finesse. Not everyone can do it."
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Tastes like tiefling tail!
She steps outside and discreetly vomits it into the shrubbery. Then she waits until the thing's poisons run their course pretending to enjoy the fresh outdoor garden air and the view of the shrubbery opposite.
Soured by the experience, and the waste of time, she finds Temel Passad and d'Louison. She recalls d'Louison having whined the night before like some lovesick alley cat over his inability to rouse the other man's entrepreneurial passions. Well, she'd see to that.
She waits for the terribly, predictable self-depreciating conversation to reach the point that she can not stand it any more than the chuul and says bluntly "Are you a man sir? Or are you a mouse? Let me be frank Mr. Passad, I find your belly-aching over your personal finances to be an utter waste of time. You have the funds enough to shower us in finery and yet you feel yourself unworthy to purchase what is in fact a vacant lot of land. You only nibble at the wedge of cheese rather than throwing the bulk of your wealth behind the endeavor and rolling the whole wheel away. Tis better to fight with all you have and die heroically than to be defeated by one's own self-doubt. Now if you will both excuse me I think I am going to be sick again."
Irith smiles smugly as the brutish Kellid eats the Chuul tentacle with its poisonous barbs on, then proceeds to speak his usual broken Taldan and not an especially slurred one. She seems slightly confused by Alaric constantly correcting himself, but understands the message nevertheless.
"All these foreigners can't be wrong. If word of my expertise has reached far and wide, I shall maintain it. Do not worry, the Burg will be mine." She then resumes eating a peculiar salad topped with tiny gilded mushrooms.
Thaia finds Temel Passad seated at a corner of the table, slowly sipping a steaming soup that smells like blooming roses. As she has expected, her conversation with Passad is nothing more than him trying to convince her the other bidders are for more fit to own districts of the city, and that he can wait until the next bid and amass some more wealth. When Thaia makes her attempt to influence him he goes silent for a moment, then sighs as he pulls out a bidding ticket and scribbles an amount just slightly higher than Myrosype's current bid.
As the diners wipe clean their sixteenth dish, Thaia notices Myrosype procuring a large bundle of cloth and leaning towards Temel Passad.
"The Pathfinder Society may produce capable agents, but they are best suited for delving into muddy ruins rather than playing at understanding matters of business and profit," she says just loud enough for Thaia to hear. "No one like you knows how troublesome the society is; remember when you challenged them to break into your palace in Katapesh? Oh, the mess they made of themselves... Ha! Surely, these bloodthirsty vagabonds are not to be trusted with the delicate business of the bid. Now, let me make an offer; we will work together. Your fortune will double itself in a year and only continue to grow; crates full of platinum and elemental artefacts - anything that will satisfy your planar customers. I only ask one thing - that you cede the Courts of Abstinence to me. You will receive a share in a number of my business ventures, including in renting the Courts' streets to the various armies of Golarion."
Passad frowns slightly, stroking his oily beard. "It is indeed quite a generous offer you are suggesting, but..."
He trails off as Myrosype unfolds the bundle before him - an elaborate golden mantle. She smiles slyly and winks at Thaia. "Please accept this simple token as a show of my good faith, and a symbol of the profits to come."
A minute later, Hegio taps his glass with a silver fork, producing a loud, clear ringing sound.
"It is time for the leading bidders to be declared.
"Leading the bid on the Courts of Abstinence... Myrosype!"
"Leading the bid on the Luminous Wharf... Myrosype!"
"Leading the bid on the Prophet's Burg... Irith Nomazmo!"
"Leading the bid on the Working End... Cyran Androtus!"
"Leading the bid on the Scriptum... Vayde Petronax!"
Servants come and collect your dirty dishes, then send you off with a smile and a bow. Passad leaves the room quickly, trying not to be noticed.
Cyran has no interest in hosting a vivacious feast. Instead, he has you brought to a warehouse in Kerse's small industrial district. Irith and Temel scoff at the musty interior of the warehouse's gutted interior. Once all the guests arrive, Cyran and his aides usher you to the center of the warehouse, where a vibrantly colored storm of magical energy is brewing. Moments after the guests assemble in the center of the circle, the warehouse disappears.
You find yourselves transported to a tall spire in the city plane of Axis. Here, golden walls hold windows that gaze down at the planar metropolis below. Inevitable servitors act as security and guests to the extravagant planar vista, which is stocked with a sampling of small foods and drinks from across the multiverse. This large chamber has no visible exits.
The temporary planar escape to Axis puts all of the guests slightly on edge; as a result, all Intimidate checks against guests gain a +2 circumstance bonus. The eagle’s view of the well-organized nature of Axis also makes guests more susceptible to talks of efficiency and finance, granting PCs a +2 bonus on Profession (merchant) checks made to influence guests. In addition, the nature of Axis itself opposes intrusion from non-lawful creatures. PCs who do not have a lawful alignment take a –2 penalty on all Intelligence, Wisdom, and Charisma based checks for as long as they remain on Axis.
While many Kalistocrats enjoy finding clever ways to use the law for their own profit, Cyran takes particular delight in creating airtight contracts. During the event, he pulls out several contracts and attempts to engage each attendee in a discussion about the flaws they notice. Each of these contracts represents another person’s imperfect attempt to negotiate the purchase of mechanical parts from Axis. A PC who succeeds at a DC 14 Linguistics, Profession (barrister), or Knowledge (engineering) check notices a significant flaw and gains a +2 bonus on all influence checks against Cyran for the rest of the scenario.
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Once he is transited into the new plane, Bambang feels distinctively unpleasant, as if some forces are clamping down on his usual free-willing mind. He worries at first that it is a side effect of the chuul tentacles, but after examining his surroundings, he realises it is the effect of the plane, and stops trying to shake off its effects.
Feeling somewhat automaton-like, Bambang bends over to examine the contract. He soon notices a discrepancy, and points it out to Cyran. "Here. The writer had used the Dwarven phrase ord nar kadrin, meaing hammer and anvil. He likely wanted to impress, thinking it meant 'an opposition or conflict', but to the dwarves where hammers and anvils are part of their daily lives, the phrase actually means 'two elements that come together perfectly', changing the meaning completely."
Pleased with himself for managing to impress Cyran, Bambang turns his attention back again to Vayde. "Ah, there you are Master Petronax. I've been most intrigued by our conversations thus far, and I hope you don't mind if I tap your learnings further. As you've alluded to, there is some strange divide in the worship of deities between the east and west. Some, like Lady Desna, remain constant. Even though her image in my lands is that of a Tian-Min woman, she retains her association with butterflies. Others, like my god Qi Zhong, solidly resides in the east only. More interesting is that he shares the same portfolio as Nethys, that of magic. Perhaps it is to accommodate different world view. For those who view magic, and life perhaps, as a dichotomy would lean towards Nethys, He with Two Halves, while those who see it as a series of evolution and transformations would gravitate towards Qi Zhong, the Wheel of Transformations, instead. What do you think?"
During the conversation, Bambang again summons the remnant spirit of his headband to keep him mind focus, to fight past the planar influence.
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Melea steels herself for what she must do, taking Alexander's advice into account. She does not want to scare or bully their gracious host, but time is of the essence. She sidles up to him and begins to talk rapidly without saying hello. Before doing so, she as quietly as possible gives herself guidance.
"Do you not see what Myrosype is doing? She is trying to scare you out of the bid! She knows you are a threat, that you have the finances to overtake her! Even if she were to honor her promise to you, it could herald dark times for Alabastrine at the very least, with armies in the Courts and the immense power the district endows its owner with! You know you have the resources to outbid her. I urge you, do it now! You must!"
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"Normally I employ the services of a very good Pharasmin barrister but...." He removes a pair of narrow octagonal spectacles from her cuff and places them smartly near the tip of her nose.
"Well, quite clearly there is not proviso for slave labor in these contracts. That could be quite important if you were in Katapesh, or my homeland, or even Andoran for that matter. One looks for these things when dealing with representatives of the Lord of Laws."
She turns to see the quaintly rural Melea attempting to sway Passad to their side and strides off to join them.
"Mister Passad, do not let Melea's obvious rustiness throw you she is correct on this point. You should press forward man! I suspect there is some duplicity in the sudden appearance of that gold mantle of hers."
She stomps the butt of her polished musket on the ground to make her point.
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Once his two colleagues part ways with Passad, Lutorinus will engage him.
"Passad, while Myrosype makes a valid point when she speaks of the Pathfinder Society's...rough... reputation, I assure you that the Society is swift to expel those who prove too much of a liability. More so, to say that we know nothing of business and trade is simply false. Take dear Madam Rossenvelt. She braved the barbaric lands of Sargava and hammered out a civilization! Even Bambang can spot the flaw in a contract and he looks like he fell out of the Cinderlands.
I've clearly spent too much time around Thaia if I just paid a Chelaxian a compliment. In public no less!
More importantly, how can you not see this woman looks to make a fool of you? Myrosype wants a pawn, not a business partner. She knows she has lost miserably and doesn't have the resources to recover her position. You must not let such a weak fool persuade you so."
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Basking in the lawful energies of Axis, Alexander remembers something the group seems to have forgotten; The Luminous Wharf. He sidles over to Passad after the rather rough treatment he received from the others, and puts on a facade of camaraderie.
"I'm certain by now, that the Courts of Abstinence is yours, but how will you secure the acces to it from the river? Armies are cumbersome at best, so wouldn't it be easiest if you controlled the harbor as well? I recall a field report from Prince Haliad I's ill-fated siege of Absalom, where the Prince decided to ignore the deep harbor at Diobel, opting to besiege Absalom directly. That of course went as all sieges of that city do, and Haliad left empty-handed..."
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Alaric, standing very still behind his fellow agents attempting to convince Passad of the error of his ways, coughs very gently. "Excuses. But I think you need hear... Excuses. Need to hear Thurismund point of view. Again Master Passad. Excuses." Suddently, Alaric's face changes completely in demeanor; a contrast to the remainder of his body which remains it's usual, reserved self. "Listen to me you white-washed peacock" growls Thurismund from within Alaric, his red aura seeping out at the edges "If you side with that fae-loving Aspis wh@#$, I will castrate you in your sleep and feed your own flesh back to you. Am I clear?"
In an instant, Thurismund is gone, and Alaric coughs awkwardly. "Excuses Master Passad. Thurismund is... Very angry. All the time. Apologies. Is best not to make him more angry. Is what I try to do. Apologies.
Alaric, seemingly embarrassed by Thurismund's words, quickly moves on to observe some of the contracts their host presents
Cyran is delighted at Bambang and Thaia's remarks regarding the contracts. He points out several additional flaws, and is especially surprised when the Tian-Sing notices the misuse of the dwarven proverb most dwarves fail to pay attention to this tiny mistake.
Bambang then goes on to further discuss the influences of eastern and western deities on each other. Petronax offers his own point of view, explaining that all deities are shards of ideas shaped by the environment and behaviour of the people who believe in them. He adds that the Prophecies of Kalistrade is the purified form of these ideals, and thus followers of other gods should find it easy to convert.
"If the faith of the east is as broad and interesting as you make it seem, then I will pay any amount of gold to learn more about them. After the bid is over, I invite you to join me at the Scriptum. It will, after all, be mine."
Melea and Thaia, on the other hand, gang up on Passad. At first he is taken aback by your straightforwardness, but he smiles when the two finish trying to persuade him.
"I'm sorry; I know how important it is for your Society to ensure Myrosype loses the bid. Trust is not the issue here, as Myrosype always stays true to her word. But what she might do with the money she earns, and I might do if I had it instead... you are right. I can do this."
Passad nods at Lutorinus, sweat gathering on his forehead. "You must be right. I came here to help my business grow, not enhance Myrosype's. Here, I'll make a bid for the Wharf too." He then takes a handkerchief out of his pocket and wipes away the sweat, shaking his head when Alexander and Thurismund try to persuade him (in vastly different way) to make a large, unbeatable bid. "I don't think I have the resources to spend this much right now. Just trying to scare Myrosype, you know."
Hegio exchanges some words with Cyran Androtus and steps up. His voice is magically magnified when he reads out the leaders this time.
"Leading the bid on the Courts of Abstinence... Temel Passad!"
"Leading the bid on the Luminous Wharf... Temel Passad!"
"Leading the bid on the Prophet's Burg... Irith Nomazmo!"
"Leading the bid on the Working End... Cyran Androtus!"
"Leading the bid on the Scriptum... Vayde Petronax!"
Some white-clad guests pat Passad on the shoulder and congratulate him for leading the bid on two different districts. Myrosype, however, seems much less amused. She gazes at Temel for a few seconds before turning towards you. Her eyes are furious, her expression that of deep resentment. Cyran dismisses the spell and you find yourselves back at the warehouse, where you are given instructions on how to arrive to the next social event - at Myrosype's place.
The capstone to the bidding for Alabastrine takes place on the afternoon of the third day. Guests are invited to Myrosype's small estate at the edge of Kerse. To the surprise of the other bidders, Myrosype leads them to a small underground stadium in the depths of her estate. Here, she treats them to a variety of athletic and gladiatorial displays performed by experts from distant Iblydos, Myrosype's homeland. During one of the sporting events, one of Myrosype's aides comes to collect you and bring you upstairs to a small office in her agent's estate.
The woman is seated on a comfy chair, patterned with lines going in straight angles across the chair's back. She is wearing a clean white peplos, a golden Aspis badge gleaming upon her belt.
"I know what you are expecting. You think I am now going to threaten your life, hold a poisoned blade to your neck until you give me what I want. This is what your Society teaches, after all. But it is not so, for there are ways far better than violence to achieve one's desires."
She straightens her back and gestures at some papers lying upon her desk.
"I know of your efforts to prevent me from acquiring a district in Alabastrine. I am not sure whether or not you were trying to do so discreetly, but your intentions are clear as daylight. I have an offer. All I need from you is to tell me who it is you are influencing to bid for the Luminous Wharf, simple as that. In return, I will give you a generous supply of gold in untraceable installments over the next several months, so that the Pathfinder Society will never know that it came from me. In addition, I will assist you if you ever run into significant trouble with the Aspis Consortium in the future. Should you be captured, I will make sure that you are freed, without any additional payment on your behalf."
She leans forward and pushes the papers towards you, then looks at the inkwell set next to her.
"Well; do you accept?"
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Melea enters skeptical and on guard. She becomes even more so as Myrosype outlines her offer. And to think, the poisoned knife option begins to seem preferable. There must be a catch somewhere, and I will try to find it.
She, too, starts bluntly, but tries to ruffle the Aspis agent first. "Our informants tell us you are a Silver agent. I see you've received a promotion, no doubt from your great successes so far in Alabastrine. And here you are, trying to broker a deal."
"I should be telling you to rot in Hell right now, but evidently that is not the way. Still, you will need to answer a few more questions, and truthfully, to get me to even consider this. What will you do to gain the Luminous Wharf? You could likely outbid the others, who are not even interested in it. What will you resort to? Threats, bribery, assault? Your offer seems harmless, but you will have to make no move to gain the Wharf if you want my cooperation."
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Lutorinus looks at her hard, "Surely you don't believe that we would accept such a lopsided deal? We stand to lose much for some paltry coin, while you stand to gain a national foot hold for pennies. I refuse to accept such a deal. Not to mention the incredible stain on our individual reputations as double-agents. Melea, darling, you must be mistaken, for that is clearly a brass badge. How worthy."
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Alaric seems strained, sweat beading on his forehead. "Thurismund is very angry. Many Society agents dead because of you. During time to relax and ... Entertainment? Is word? Yes. During entertainment. Is cost to everything. Cost of opportunity. This is you paying cost. If is all, would like to leave. Involvement of yours in attack, bring back memories of other attack on people to Thurismund. Mmmh? Ahem. He say "I will burst out your eyeballs first and your eardrums last, and everything else in between you lop-sided worm". Excuses. Thurismund not very... Nice. Yes. Not very nice at all."
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Alexander stands abruptly up, his frail form almost knocking over the chair he was sitting on.
"We will make no such deal! You may have no concept of honor, but we do, and the transgressions you have committed against the Society are unforgivable. Good day, madam! I said good day!"
He then turns on his heals and storms out of the room.
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Bambang waits in turn for each of his teammate's response first, and when Alexander stormed out, he feels it is time for him to respond. "My lady, I can't necessarily accept Master d'Louison's declaration of honor. That is a foreign concept for my tribe. Rather, we believe in striving for your own path, so long as it does not adversely affect others. However, tempting as your offer is, I have come to mistrust the offers of those from your organisation. So my response is ... as you say here in the west ... what he said."
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Thaia's mind wonders. Myrosype has an impeccable trade record among people who should know. Passad is a milksop no doubt and it might do the man some good to have to fight for something for a change. The idea of making some money and, gaining contacts with the nominal opposition, while making a man of a former mouse all vie for attention in her mind's ear, thankfully drowning out the mostly ill-considered (and in Alaric's case--incomprehensible) ranting going on around her.
Melea's concerns and Bambang's naive prosaic savage beliefs aside, it's true that she would most certainly make a move against Passad, but is that not the kalistocrat way? Should he not already know that? And d'Louison (how apropos) to claim that the Society who if recent rumor holds true, nearly destroyed all space time-over a bit of beautiful landscaping that they did not have to mow there-by eliminating the need to employ foreign devils or people of Alaric's sort--well, perhaps not. I'm sure that I would never trust the man with a pair of shears. The whole affair was no more than a excuse to sack some serpent folk in the distant past with no concern at all for the whole of history or the uncounted butterflies that were trod upon. No, the Society is not really much different in their methods than the Aspis they hate. 'Murder ragamuffins' all.
Lutorinus, at least, is trying to remind the woman the worth of what she is getting before naming his price, though his demonic temper is clearly getting the better of his negotiating skills. Best if this were handled in more business-like tones....
"Hmm? Oh, I was just thinking. Go on."
Myrosype laughs humourlessly.
"Of course, I am the one with no concept of honour. May I remind you it is you who are accusing me of foul play, bribery and threats? Perhaps I was not too wrong in claiming you know nothing of business."
Myrosype frowns.
"This is Druma," she says matter-of-factly, "a land where business and money are above all else. Violence hurts trade, and trying to use it will get you thrown in jail. Even a district in Alabastrine isn't worth forsaking my reputation for. All I need to know is exactly where to funnel my funds, without any of the bloodshed and horrors you Pathfinder enjoy so much."
Despite the frustration she must be going through, Myrosype's voice is level and clear, in a way only a skilled negotiator could maintain.
"I see that there is no dealing with you madmen, but I shan't lose all hope. Lady Rossenvelt; you look like you have much more experience in the matter than your entourage. Come, let's negotiate a deal. Accept, and all your allies will be properly rewarded. Refuse, and you will miss a huge opportunity to not only protect yourself from the recklessness of the Pathfinder Society, but also to make significant personal gains straight from my pocket."
She folds her hands, each finger rhythmically tapping her arms.
"The choice is yours."
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"Who said I rejected your offer, much as I might want to? If you know we are shutting you out of Alabastrine, you know our greater mission. Since taking you up on this proposition will aid us in that overarching goal, I may accept. And while I don't necessarily agree with Thaia here, let us see what she has to say. Perhaps it will further influence my decision."
"Blackmail," she mutters under her breath.
"Well, then, Lady Rossenvelt, you have deceived me. You seemed like quite the competent businessperson; but alas, you were brainwashed by the Society as well."
She pushed back her chair, opens a drawer and stuffs the documents into it.
"Allow me to escort you back to the festivities. I shouldn't waste any more of my time negotiating with you."
Myrosype and her henchmen take you back to the main arena, where the guests are busy watching a tan kellid man wrestle with a lion.
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While seemingly observing the wrestling match, Bambang sidles up to Passad.
"Master Passad, I must thank you for your hosting and support thus far. It has been a most eye-opening experience, or in the case of Mistress Irith's party, a most gut wrenching experience." Bambang says this with a mocking smile. However, his tone suddenly turns serious. "I am happy for you that you finally stiffened your resolve to place a bid for the Courts of Abstinence. As you can clearly see from the last bidding, it has proven fruitful. My father, Chief Kuwat, the warchief of my tribe, taught me much of the ways of warfare. The cardinal principle of them all is laying in wait for opportunity to arise, and striking all out when it presents itself. You have now secured the Courts to rent out as training grounds of armies, and even made inroads to secure the Wharf. Imagine renting that out as training area for navies as well! You would secure comprehensive military contracts. You MUST strike now, before you lose this opportunity!"
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Melea watches Bambang and follows suit. "We just had a little chat with Myrosype, mostly about the Luminous Wharf. Had we agreed to take the poisoned olive branch she offered us, she could have easily taken it, leaving you with but one district. Still a victory, but the fact remains she must fear you! Perhaps you aren't entirely comfortable with expending so many resources. Perfectly understandable. However, the return for winning the district would be enormous! Tolls! Leasing! Ports! If you push for it, you can give Myrosype, among other competitors, a reason to fear you!"
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"Passad, my good friend, I am proud of you. Your recent bidding victory has turned the heads of those who oppose you. You must press your advantage further! You are the underdog. Nobody expected you to even be a competitor, but here you are standing up to Myrosype! I understand you feel like your coffers are not quite as full as the other bidders, but in their fighting and bidding, the Luminous Wharf has been all but forgotten. With the final event upon us, I advise you to end with a flourish: take the wharf under your command. The bards will sing of your decisive political victory for ages to come, not to mention the respect you will earn from your peers. This is your chance to rise even higher than you already have, all you must do is reach out and take it."
Passad tries to interject a few times, but an onslaught of Pathfinders prevents him from commenting. He is at first unmoved by Bambang, but after Melea's attempt he is easily persuaded by every single one of you. He listens with interest to Alexander's tale, interrupted by Thaia's effective intimidation technique. He laughs nervously and raises his hand.
"Well, you certainly are bent on making me bid for the Wharf, aren't you? You've made your intentions clear, no need to blow anyone apart."
He scribbles a disappointingly low number on a sheet of paper, but Hegio raises his eyebrows in surprise when he picks it up.
"No one will think of bidding this much on the Wharf, trust me."
At the end of this event, you are taken to a large estate in the middle of Kerse. A sign in the front reads "Seat of the Resplendent Bureaucracy". In the middle of the large hall stands a stage with five polished marble pillars on it. On each pillar is an elaborate relief and the name of the associated district. Hegio the dwarf climbs onto the stage and clears his throat.
"Ladies and gentlemen; allow me to thank you for participating in this year's Bid for Alabastrine. It is quite the diverse result we have reached this time, and I am sure you are excited to hear the results. Thus, without further ado:"
He presses against the pillar labeled "Courts of Abstinence". The pillar trembles slightly as the words Temel Passad carve themselves in gold on its surface. There's a round of applause as Passad climbs onto the stages and receives the District's deed from Hegio.
The dwarf then activates the Luminous Wharf pillar, also revealing the name of Temel Passad. Ovation follows as the flourishing businessman receives the deed for an additional district of the city. Myrosype covers her eyes with the palm of her hand and whispers something inaudible.
When Hegio pushes against the third pillar, that of the Prophet's Burg, the name Irith Nomzamo carves itself onto the marble surface. The dark woman quietly accept the district's deed from Hegio and rejoins the crowd.
The fourth pillar, the Scriptum, shows Vayde Petronax's name. The old man slowly makes his way up the stage, shakes the dwarf's hand with surprising energy and hands the deed over to the young woman that helped him up. He whispers something in Hegio's ear, and the dwarf nods and smiles.
Finally, the Working End pillar is activated. A few eyebrows around Cyran Androtus are raised when the word Myrosype appears in gold. The elf himself, however, seems unmoved, and claps along as Myrosype parts from the crowd. She shakes Hegio's hand and throws Passad a cold look. Myrosype is visibly annoyed at the bid's results. Snacks and drinks are distributed after the ceremony ends, and Cyran Androtus teleports you straight back to the lodge in Almas, where Trade Prince al'Hakam is waiting with a smile on his face.
"I've received an early report of the results of the bid for Alabastrine. Thank you very much, Pathfinders; even though Myrosype did end up with a district of the city, I hear that she has funneled more than half her funds to win this district alone. Now, please finalize your report and send it to the Decemvirate. They'll be glad to read it."
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Back at the Grand Lodge, Alexander throws himself at the paperwork with much eagerness.
"Would any of you mind comparing notes? Perhaps we could even discuss prior missions..."
#06: Black Waters
Master of the Fallen Fortress
#6–18: From Under Ice
#7–10: The Consortium Compact
#6–10: The Wounded Wisp
#4–18: The Veteran's Vault
#7–12: The Twisted Circle
#17: Perils of the Pirate Pact
#3-05: Tide of Twilight
#3–23: The Goblinblood Dead
#23: Tide of Morning
#2-13: Murder on the Throaty Mermaid
First Steps—Part I: In Service to Lore
#6–12: Scions of the Sky Key, Part 1: On Sharrowsmith's Trail
The Silverhex Chronicles
#7–22: Bid for Alabastrine (funnily enough)
Thornkeep: The Forgotten Laboratory
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Although somewhat disappointed that Myrosope still managed to secure one district, her look of annoyance was more than sufficient to let assure Bambang that the party has nonetheless disrupted her plans significantly.
Turning to his party, he shakes each of their hands in turn. "I understand this is the culture here in the west during partings. It was a great pleasure working with all of you on this mission." He pauses briefly when he reaches Thaia. "Even with you, Lady Thaia. I trust our paths will cross again."
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Back at the Grand Lodge, Alexander throws himself at the paperwork with much eagerness.
"Would any of you mind comparing notes? Perhaps we could even discuss prior missions..."
"I see you know only part of Sharrowsmith's story. I led an expedition to the Mwangi Expanse and so can tell you the rest first hand. Where shall I begin? Oh yes, right before that toad-person joined the party." Somewhere in the manor someone begins strumming a harp, and afternoon heat seems to distort the air around Rossenvelt and d'Lousion as she begins her tale.
Turning to his party, he shakes each of their hands in turn. "I understand this is the culture here in the west during partings. It was a great pleasure working with all of you on this mission." He pauses briefly when he reaches Thaia. "Even with you, Lady Thaia. I trust our paths will cross again."
"Of course." Thaia says as if it were as obvious as gravity.
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Alaric nods, sighing inwardly with relief. "Maybe some other time I tell you about Echo of Honor Alexander d'Louison. And maybe we meet again Melea of Feathers. Bambang, it was honor... It was nice to meet you. Excuses."
He stops, pondering his words when facing Thaia and Lutorinus. "Father Exsuberia, Lady Rossenvelt... I am happy we are success... Sucessful. Excuses. I am happy we are successful in this job. Excuses. No I must go and let Thurismund... Kill a puppet? In practice? Words missing. Excuses. He has much anger in him."