Kreighton Shaine, an eccentric elf and the Pathfinder Society’s Master of Scrolls, sets a vibrant orchid atop his cluttered desk. Looking up in acknowledgement, he comments, “A beautiful flower, no?” Without hesitating, he gestures to a chairless room, saying, “Please sit down.” At this, Master Shaine sits cross-legged on the floor and begins the mission briefing as though nothing were out of the ordinary.
“Every year representatives from Thuvia auction off six vials of the sun orchid elixir. Each bid—even the losing bids—are added to the wealth of the city holding the auction. This year the city of Lamasara runs the auction, and its chosen guardian, Ofarah Ohatepe, is visiting Absalom as we speak. An invitation to a birthday banquet to be held in her honor at the Thuvian Embassy arrived at the Grand Lodge a fortnight ago. The invitation requests that representatives from the Pathfinder Society attend the gala, and the Decemvirate has chosen you. But be warned, this is no mere excuse for revelry.
“We believe that Ohatepe has ulterior motives in inviting her other guests to this event. What they are we don’t know, but we want you to find out. Get on her good side and see what she’s after. While the Society as an organization has little interest in the sun orchid elixir, many among the Ten might, and one can’t discount the fact that the so-called Lioness of Lamasara invited us—well, you, as the case may be—to her birthday dinner. So put on your finest clothes, go to the Thuvian Embassy in the Petal District, and be on your best behavior!”
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Peri was already wearing her nobles garb when she entered the chairless room. She looked around the nearly empty room and realized that she is the first one here, sans the Master of Scrolls.
Garund? Excellent, I wonder how Cartehegen is doing?
"Do we know anybody that's going to be in attendance?"
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Heavy footsteps announce Amiri's arrival well before she enters the room. Her hide armor still stained with a bit of blood from her last enemies, she takes no care to wash the filth of battle from herself.
When prompted to sit down, Amiri folds her arms and remains standing, leaning against the wall.
Upon listening to the briefing, the barbarian pipes up, "So, you're expecting me to get gussied up for some birthday party, just to ferret out why everyone else was invited? Don't ya think we could get more outta her if I introduce her to Lil' Bastard here?" She pats the large bastard sword slung to her back.
She checks her coin purse, "Not even sure I have enough coin for any finery. Gorram Society dues..."
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A borderline elderly-looking 5'9" Tien-Min man dressed in an outpatient robe (with mundane clothes underneath) watches Kreighton with a dead stare. His most notable feature is his silvery hair, which hangs lifelessly from all natural portions of the face, though it reaches 9' length. On his back is a well-prepared backpack of knickknacks and tools, whose organization belies the lack of attention the man presents at the moment. In one hand hangs a bucket of fresh water, which contains a solitary crab.
"We're... what?"
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The fox enters the room, slipping in just behind the white haired Tien-Min man. The fox quietly sneaks around the perimeter of the room, stopping next to Peri scratching the ground next to her several times before curling up into a fur ball.
A moment later a woman dressed in traditional Keleshite garb enters. Her face is covered by a naqib, but her dark eyes seem to pierce the room. "Forgive me Sayeed Shaine." she bows, revealing a longsword at her hip under her robe. She has a fine looking composite bow and quiver slung over her back. "What else can you tell us about this Lioness of Lamasara?"
Master Shaine responds to Peri, "We know that seven additional guests received an invitation, and four are friends of the Society: Trade Prince Aaqir al’Hakam, the Sapphire Sage Amenopheus, Lady Gloriana Morilla, and Paracountess Zarta Dralneen. We aren’t certain of the identities of the other three guests."
Shaine looks up at Amiri and smiles, "Events like these demand the best. When in doubt, the more you spend on your attire the better. As to your weapons and armor, you can bring whatever you want, but just make sure you peacebond your weapons and polish your armor. Going to a party prepared for combat won’t win you many friends."
At the old man's question, Kreighton Shaine slowly and calmly explains the mission again.
Kreighton nods to Sahar as she enters. He thinks for a moment. "Ofarah is the personal bodyguard of Queen Zamere and a renowned military strategist. While fierce, she has been known to show great mercy on the battlefield, and many of our agents in Lamasara report that she is a champion of justice. All you need to know is that she is responsible for this year’s batch of the sun orchid elixir, so whatever you do, stay on her good side."
Kreighton becomes transfixed with a speck of fuzz floating in the air for about two minutes as the party sits in silence. Finally, as the fuzz lands on the ground, Kreighton looks up. "Oh! Is there anything else you need? The gala starts tomorrow at noon. Please do not embarrass the Society by arriving late. You can be on your way now."
The Master of Scrolls begins crawling on the ground towards the fuzz that he spotted earlier.
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Tsusuko listens to the re-explaining and follows the dust mite as well, though continues to be confused and horrified at the mission (or maybe just the dust). "But... this is... talking... and politics... why not send... J-Jander...?"
-Posted with Wayfinder
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Amiri lets out a huff and heads into town to find a shop. The whole time, she mutters to herself, "Stupid policy - All Pathfinders may not trade or barter allocated equipment unless it is for a mortal need - bunch a bull-"
She catches herself as she steps into the clothiers. If she was a bit out of place during the briefing, she appears downright alien among the dresses and formal wear. A nervous clerk approaches the barbarian with eyes set on the marks of blood on the hide and across Amiri's midriff.
"Can I... help you?"
"Yeah, sure. I need a dress. Something fancy - going to a big shindig and I need something nice. How 'bout this one?" she finds a crimson courtesan's gown. "How much for it?"
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"That's a lovely choice. It's 30 gold sovereigns."
Amiri does a double take. "What?! Thirty gold for a piece of cloth?" She counts the contents of her coinpurse. "Hmm, you'll take some Pathfinder credit, won't you? I'm in the Society - in good standing! I've got 19 on me - can you charge the rest to PFS account #64554-2?" Linnea won't mind.
The clerk smiles faintly, "Well, I need you to fill out some paperwork, but we do welcome Society business."
Amiri takes the dress back to the lodge and changes, deciding that she can be without Lil' Bastard and the rest of her equipment for the evening, except for anything that can pass as jewelry.
The Thuvian Embassy is an ornate, whitewashed, twostory structure tucked in a shady corner of Absalom’s Petal District. Several large oil lamps hang from the walls, bathing the embassy’s rooms in normal light. Exotic rugs, plush furniture, and works of art decorate the building. Surrounding the embassy, lush gardens display Thuvian flora pruned to perfection.
Apart from yourselves, Ofarah has invited seven additional guests to the small yet extravagant dinner party, hoping each may prove worthy of receiving her aid in winning the sun orchid elixir auction later in the year. They are:
Amenopheus, The Sapphire Sage: A wrinkled, time-weathered Garundi man, Amenopheus walks with a slow, methodical gait. He stands stooped—a byproduct of not only his age, but also his elaborate turban decorated with exotic feathers and precious gemstones.
Ceralan the White: The elf is tall and thin, but slouches, appearing weaker and frailer than you would expect. He has shockingly white hair, unusual for an elf, and shifty eyes of deep blue. He wears gilded studded leather armor befitting a dignitary from Iadara and has a polished rapier at his side and an exquisite darkwood composite longbow on his back, both securely peace-bonded.
Gaspar Desime: Gaspar is a well-built man with chiseled features, piercing eyes and a strong jawline. He moves with the cadence of a practiced swordsman. He wears an Isgeri military uniform complete with sash and adorning medals. The medals pinned to the sash suggest an illustrious career in the Goblinblood Wars.
Lady Gloriana Morilla: Lady Gloriana Morilla is a full-figured woman in the prime of life, and she wears an ornate gown that accentuates her many assets. She has cunning brown eyes and long, chestnut hair worn half-up.
Paracountess Zarta Dralneen: A stunning beauty with piercing, heavily shadowed eyes and long, dark hair, Zarta’s mere glance stills the hearts of most people. She moves with a lithe, catlike grace and always places herself in a position to be admired and to get a good view on the most desirable person in the room.
Trade Prince Aaqir al’Hakam: Aaqir is a handsome man with sharp Qadiran features. He has short, well-groomed hair and a clean-shaven face.
Yala Witchbane: Yala is a striking woman of the frozen north, with braided blonde hair, pale skin, and wide blue eyes. Powerfully built, she moves with a commanding stride and laughs with a roar that overpowers all other sounds at the party.
Before dinner itself is served, the PCs and the other guests have the opportunity to mingle while noshing on imported Thuvian delicacies and sipping an exotic liqueur made from desert flower nectar. Despite the opulence of the setting and the generous hospitality offered by the embassy staff, the party’s hostess and guest of honor, Ofarah Ohatepe, is not yet present. Unfortunately, Ofarah’s guests do not have free run of the embassy grounds, and slipping away from the party requires stealth, subterfuge, or bribery.
Recently, I received a report that a growing Inner Sea slaving operation has been working out of the Thuvian port of Merab. But the report must be substantiated—I need you to use your time at the Thuvian Embassy this evening to further the investigation into this claim. Find a moment in the proceedings to slip away and search the quarters of the Merabi delegate to the embassy. See if you can find anything therein to give credence to my fears, and if so, bring it to me. May Talmandor Guide You,
Major Colson Maldris
Tonight, while I’m mingling with the other guests at the party at the Thuvian Embassy, I need you to sneak away to the office of the embassy’s head of trade. She should have a ledger containing contacts, trade agreements, and major transactions, but the book itself is likely abjured to prevent its removal from the office. Thus, I need you to use the spell on the included scroll to magically remove the contents of the book. At the time of its casting, you can select another book to transfer the text to; use my personal diary, which will be in my pocket downstairs.
Don’t let me down,
Trade Prince Aaqir al’Hakam
Among your fellow guests at tonight’s dinner at the Thuvian Embassy will be a warrior from the Lands of the Linnorm Kings to the north named Yala Witchbane. I believe she plans to place a bid for the upcoming sun orchid elixir auction so that she can prolong her life and continue to apply her decades of personal experience to her ongoing battle against the White Witches of Irrisen. This is an effort we support, and we wish to assist her in bankrolling her bid. Please deliver the enclosed platinum ingot to the noble barbarian at the party, but ensure that none see you do so, as it would be considered tasteless to do so right under the Thuvians’ noses in their own embassy.
For the Greater Good,
Ollysta Zadrian
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Peri notices the Trade Prince and winks in unknown futility as she stuffs a scroll case into her spring loaded wrist sheathe. She immediately departs for the office of the head of trade while reading the raunchy details of the Trade Prince's diary.
Let's see... whoa his daughters are adopted??? Oh I never knew he was... Oh my... Partner? Now I get it... No wonder he is so well dressed.
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Amiri looks as uncomfortable as she feels at the reception. A glass of wine in her hand, she does her best to look natural - difficult to do without her hide armor. Though she decided, at the last minute, that she would bring her sword and have it peace-bonded.
"Maldris, really, sneak around?" she asks aloud to nobody in particular as she reads her Andoran correspondence. Not one that is practiced in the art of deception, she decides to gulp down the last of the fine Chelish wine and talk up the handsome looking man in the Isgeri military uniform.
"So, soldier...looks like you've seen your fair share of action. I'll be honest, this is not my idea of a good time. Wanna stroll around the grounds with me?" She hooks an arm around on of Gaspar Desime's arms and tries to get him to follow her around.
"Say, do you know if the Merabi delegate is here tonight?"
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Sahar pays her respects to the Trade Prince, "Blessings of the Dawnflower upon you Sayeed al’Hakam." Dressed in a new, very colorful outfit, Sahar is wearing several expensive looking pieces of jewelry, a head dress and matching necklace as well as a fine mesh silver veil. Her eyes scan the rest of the crowd, and after making uncomfortable small talk with the Trade Prince she approaches Ceralan. "Blessings upon you. I am Pathfinder Hasna. Please, excuse the intrusion, but I wonder if you would tell me of the craftsman who created your bow? I have always wanted to work with the darkwood myself to craft a bow."
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Amiri walks through the halls on the arm of the very handsome Gaspar Desime. All the while, she regales him with tales of her exploits with the Society. "...what else could I do? I had a high priestess of Lamashtu helpless in front of me. So I took Lil' Bastard and shoved him right through her guts. Whadda they call it... a coo day grah?" She finishes off another glass of wine and drops the glass.
"Oh, and the blood! You never seen such blood. Huh, it'd match this dress none too badly."
The barbarian takes a closer look at the military man. "Are you even listening to me? Of course... you probably see things like that all the time. I may as well tell you about stubbing a toe." She looks around.
"Say, are these the quarters for the delegates? I wonder which one is the Merabi delegate's room... have you met him? He told me he left a book for me to fetch, you know, I'm quite a reader..."
Amiri makes her way into the quarters and searches for the papers on slavery that Maldris requested. She stashes the papers down the front of her blouse.
"So, what is the deal with this orchid juice that everyone is hoping to get?"
Gaspar refuses to take Amiri's arm but instead regales her with stories. "Ah yes! Young one, you look like you haven't seen too many battles yet! You'll get there, you'll get there! Me, I was a champion of the Goblinblood Wars." Gaspar continues rambling on about his many martial exploits in a loud, irritating voice. Every time Amiri tells one of her own stories he tries hard not to act impressed and tries to respond with an even more outrageous story. Amiri notices that Gaspar does not seem to be speaking directly to her but instead keeps shifting his glance over to the Paracountess, always making sure she stays within range of his boisterous voice.
Sahar approaches the elf. He mumbles quietly, "Ah, yes, it's very nice. How do you make yours then?" As Sahar answers, she notices him looking about and muttering, "So rude, showing up late."
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Amiri, getting the feeling that Gaspar is playing the one-up game, tries to sneak off into the Merabi delegate's room.
However, she has apparently had a bit too much to drink and stumbles right into the arms of one of the guards.
"So sorry, I seem to have gotten turned around. Which way to the ladies' room?"
She splashes her face with some water in the powder room to sober herself up a little.
As Amiri steps out of the ladies' room, she hears loud laughter from the pale blonde. She makes a beeline towards her and chats up Yala Witchbane.
Amiri freshens herself up and goes back to the party. Yala introduces herself to Amiri warmly. "Finally! Another woman with my perspective on life! Ha!" Yala’s voice booms with an air of authority as she speaks of her many campaigns against the winter witches of Irrisen near her homeland in the Lands of the Linnorm Kings, and she eagerly shows off her battle scars, ever bragging that hers are more honorable than anyone’s she has yet met.
"Do you have any experience battling the white witches of Irrisen?" Yala asks with a scowl. "'Course, they use all sorts o' black magics, stretchin' out their life beyond what a person should live. Well, they've got an enemy in me and if I have my way I'll get a drop of that elixir and make my life a little longer, too! Nothing like experience to take down a winter witch and I've got more experience than groans in a whorehouse!" She laughs loudly at her own joke and several other guests look away in embarrassed disgust at the Ulfen woman's crudeness. "Ay, just a few more years and I can bring down that many more winter witches. It'll be worth it to see the life go from their eyes." She draws out a flask and holds it to the air before taking a swig and then offering the flask to Amiri.
As Peri pulls up her skirt, the guard steps out in front of her. "Sorry, miss, the rest of the embassy is off-bounds to guests."
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Opposed rolls work different than DCs
Peri not used to being rejected mulls over some of her spells in her head
This fool. What should I use? The hideous laughter, or the oppressive boredom? I suppose this task isn't that important or the Trade Prince would do it himself.
Peri dismisses her foolish magical ideas, and offers some parting words for the guard.
She whispers
"I hope your family has the means to survive without your weekly pay darling."
Her soft voice trails into a snarl
"Because when the Head of Trade finds out about you not letting me... perform, you'll be lucky to even apprentice for the dung sweeper's guild"
The guard's eyes widen at the sudden turn of events and he steps aside to let Peri pass.
Peri is able to find the office of the Thuvian diplomat in charge of trade. In her office, Peri can easily find a ledger of major transactions, trade treaties, and contacts on her desk.
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Amiri takes the flask from Yala and takes a deep draft from it. As the alcohol burns down her gullet, she coughs a bit and hands the flask back to Witchbane.
"No, can't say I've had many run-ins with witches of the North. Mostly, I've been breaking up cults, and chopping up cultists. Any advice for dealing with witches, for a less-experienced warrior?"
In the presence of this warrior queen, Amiri's usual gruffness fades and she hangs on every word from Yala. Why aren't there more like her at this party?
After learning what she can about witches, Amiri asks Madame Witchbane, "So, what of this sun orchid elixir? Why is it so valuable?"
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Tsusuko continues to stand about in a daze, while his otherworldly patron tries to bring Tsusuko back into the fold of the Dark Tapestry via crab.
"This new outlook is quite boring, Tsusuko. Do you not have the drive we used to provide you anymore? Think of all the good not being done, now. Give in; open the gates to the Lurker."
Peri does not find any information about the sun orchid elixir.
Meanwhile, Amiri continues her conversation with Yala. "Oh, never fought a winter witch before, eh? You're damn lucky." She gives details about the strategies of winter witches with much detail.
"Ha! What are you here for if not for the sun orchid elixir! It' some secret alchemical formula with unknown substances mixed with the nectar of the sun orchid, a rare flower that only blooms in the burning heat of the Thuvian desert. Too hot for my tastes, ha! But drinking a single dose of this draught restores one’s youth, making those who can afford a steady supply of it essentially immortal. I don't want immortality but a few extra years don't hurt! That many more witches killed, just imagine!"
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Unshouldering her bow, she presents it to the elf for his inspection. "This was crafted by my hands from oak, and has been adjusted to my own particular style and strength. The High Priestess of Sarenrae in Katheer imbued it with the magical strength of the Dawnflower."
"Is it a common custom in Thuvia for the host to arrive late to her own party?" Sahar inquires.
The elf speaking with Sahar gives a cursory glance at Sahar's bow before looking around and muttering, "No, no it's not. She should be here, she's just being rude now." He straightens up a bit, "Thank you for the talk." He then abruptly walks away to get some more punch.
Peri spots the Trade Prince in the corner smiling to himself as he watches Gaspar Desime pathetically chase Zarta Dralneen around the room, trying desperately to impress her.
After about an hour of unstructured mingling and just as Amiri is wondering where the hostess is, the party moves into the embassy's grand dining hall, where a lavish meal has been laid out on a round ebonwood table. The hostess is already seated at the northermost end of the table, but rises to greet her guests as they enter. She is a tall and strongly built Garundi woman, with dark hair styled in an elaborate mane of dreadlocks. She favors gold jewelry that jingles when she walks, accenting her feline stride, which suggests both grace and purpose.
“Welcome friends! I apologize for my tardiness, but I hope you had an enjoyable time conversing in the parlor. Tonight, in celebration of my birthday, we will have a sumptuous meal prepared by the embassy’s finest chef, to be served in six courses. As we dine, I look forward to getting to know those of you with whom I am not yet acquainted. Please don’t hesitate to ask anything of our servants, who are here to please, and who will do all in their power to make your meal as exquisite as it can be. So without further delay, let us eat!”
An intimidating amount of silverware adorns each place setting.
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Amiri can't make heads or tails of the various spoons, forks, knives, plates and goblets. Though she tries to follow along with what the other dinner guests do, she gets mixed up and tries to eat the starter soup with the dessert spoon.
Her face grows red as she hears the snickering from around the table.
Everyone rolls their eyes at Amiri as she picks up the wrong utensil; everyone but Yala, that is, who gives Amiri a shameful and knowing nod.
As four liveried servants prepare to serve the first course, seared sea scallops presented on a bed of butternut squash pureed with exotic Thuvian herbs and drizzled with chive oil, Ofarah turns to Paracountess Zarta Dralneen and poses her first question. “My dear Paracountess, I have heard you yourself throw rather lavish parties at the Chelish Embassy. How do you find tonight’s affair, and what advice can you offer me for future events?”
The paracountess squints for a moment in thought, as though trying to think of a tactful way of saying something with no possible positive spin. “My parties are much more lively, to say the least. I enjoy the company of many, and this small fete would hardly provide enough warm bodies to keep me occupied at one of my gatherings. Perhaps, if you’re open to the idea, I could invite you to my next soiree, which is set to have an enticingly Infernal theme?”
After this, Ofarah turns from the Paracountess to face Sahar. "My dear Sahar, what do you think of the party so far? How does it compare to those thrown by my counterpart in the Chelish Embassy?"