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A tall, quite muscular man strides boldly into the unspecified and featureless meeting space. By the points of his ears, he is half-elven, but clearly, his human heritage has manifested in an impressive physique. Aside from those details, his most striking feature is his flame-red flowing locks. A greatsword is strapped over his back. Tucked into his belt by its neck is the corpse of a plucked chicken, though closer inspection reveals that the chicken is not actually made of flesh, but is in fact some sort of artificial chicken.
Conan flashes a dizzyingly-white smile around the room and stands for a moment with his fists planted on his hips. "WELL. I'm eager to see what FOES OF JUSTICE the Society wishes to unleash me upon TODAY! Eh? EH, friends? Do not worry, my compatriots and colleagues! I know it can be intimidating to travel with a celebrity of the entertainment world such as myself, but there is no need to fret, for I am known for my fairness! Nobody's contributions shall be left out of the inevitable Pathfinder Chronicle composed of our exploits! In the meantime, I will keep everybody's spirits up through the HEALING POWER of laughter."
Conan does not appear to be very good with the concept of an 'inside voice.'
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Striding into the room confidently is an auburn and white furred kitsune, wearing blackened studded leather armor. Adorning said armor are two bandoliers loaded with flasks and wands, and a multitude of daggers. He drops his pack, flattens his ears at the boisterous voice of the half elf, and then flicks his tail nervously.
Is this where we are to meet for the mission? I'm Takkit. Pleased to meet you. I'll be the lookout and the door opener..
As he speaks, he casually slides a dagger out of a hidden sheath and twirls it subconsciously, eventually looking down at it with a surprised look in his eyes, before sheathing it again.
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Umm, why are you carrying a dead chicken in your belt? Is that a new weapon or something? The small halfling looks as if he wants to get closer to investigate but merely leans in and back out from a number of feet away. I'm Quiven, by the way. I don't think we've met before.
The burglar then digs into his backpack and pulls out a banana, peels it and begins to eat. Ewe wont wun? Quiven offers another banana to the red-haired man.
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"Hello, Takkit!" Conan booms with a big grin. "You must be one of the fabled FOX SPIRITS I have heard so much about! I have never met one of your people before! Tell me, what do your people find amusing?"
Without any dimming in wattage, the smile turns on Quiven. "Ah, it is not dead, FRIEND QUIVEN! That is a highly cunning ILLUSION, a trick, as we say, of the TRADE. This chicken can, indeed, be used as a weapon.... to reach men's hearts!"
Conan pauses. "....that could be true for most objects, however, if enough force is applied. But never fear, I spoke METAPHORICALLY. --oh, yes, I would love a BANANA, thank you."
Conan eagerly takes one of the proffered fruits.
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You have all been waiting outside a meeting room at the Pathfinder Society headquarters. The door finally opens and you see Venture-Captain Ambrus Valsin stands at the end of a long table. To either side of him stand Lady Gloriana Morilla and Major Colson Maldris. As you all enter, it's obvious that nobody was by the door to open it. After a quick gesture from Valsin and the door closes again, a small reminder of the man's often-forgotten sorcerer powers.
“Thank you for coming, Pathfinders,” Valsin says, gesturing for everyone to sit, though he remains standing. He raises an eyebrow at the banana peel in Conan's hand and shakes his head, but says nothing. Lady Gloriana chuckles discretely, and Major Colson makes a few quick glances, obviously missing the joke. “As you may have heard, we recently discovered the location of a lost dwarven Sky Citadel. I won’t demean your intelligence by stating the significance of this discovery, but suffice it to say the potential rewards for exploring the site are staggering.”
He turns to face a map of the Inner Sea on the wall and pokes a location with a loud thump. “Unfortunately, the Sky Citadel is located within what was once Sarkoris—the demon-infested region now known as the Worldwound. After a long debate and careful planning, we began to recruit military aid to push into the demon-haunted land so we could reach the site; however, before we could make any significant gains, Mendev’s wardstones—a collection of minor artifacts designed to keep the demons from pouring out of the Worldwound—began to inexplicably fail. In short, there’s a hole in the dam and demons are trickling into Mendev in greater numbers. With Mendev under this new assault, we realize that in order to reach the Sky Citadel, we must aid the Fifth Crusade and help turn back the demons."
Valsin's trademark scowl deepens.
“Since the nations of the Inner Sea are not reacting expediently to the danger presented by the newly invigorated Worldwound, a small cadre of concerned Pathfinders— including Trade Prince Aakir al’Hakam, Paracountess Zarta Dralneen, the Sapphire Sage Amenopheus, Lady Gloriana Morilla, and Major Colson Maldris—have united to leverage their influence. With my support, they plan to petition the Grand Council of Absalom and persuade them to issue an executive order to send soldiers to Mendev immediately."
He returns to his desk and produces a few letters on black stationery with fine red lettering and gilding. He withholds them for the moment.
“To increase our chances for success, we called in a favor from the Blakros family, who remain grateful to the Society for recently saving the marriage of Michellia Blakros and the Hellknight Damien Kastner. The newlyweds have organized a dinner party with an impressive guest list to be held at Fiddlemourn Manor. Lady Morilla and Major Maldris will attend, and they plan to use the feast as an opportunity to convince some of Absalom’s elite to support the upcoming motion. We need you to mingle with several important guests and befriend them so that they are more disposed to throw their support behind the Fifth Crusade. These special guests include Senator Augustyn Naran of Andoran, Lady Vaelia Wintermark of Taldor, Lady Dyrianna of House Avenstar, Scion Lord Kerkis of House Damaq, Lord Rothos of House Vastille, Lady Darchana of House Madinani, and Dremdhet Salhar, the Grand Ambassador of Osirion.
He tosses the letters to the other side of the table and leans back in his chair.
“The feast is tomorrow evening. Though the Blakroses are handling security, we want you to attend in your full adventuring regalia to help solidify your role as representatives of the Pathfinder Society and lend credibility to any claims you make regarding your knowledge of the Worldwound and the worldwide threat it signifies. We also expect you to provide additional security if it’s needed.”
Valsin levels his solemn gaze on everyone at the table.
“Remember, this is a social gathering. It’s crucial that we make a good impression on the guests, win their support, and improve the Society’s standing with them. Without their support, our motion to the Grand Council is doomed to failure.”
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When the doors are opened, Conan strides in and snaps off an enthusiastic salute, then stands ramrod straight as he listens to the briefing orders-- though he lapses into a grin at the name of Michellia Blakros.
"Michellia! The dear child! I remember her well! It will be FANTASTIC to see her again!" His grin abruptly transforms into a thunderous scowl. "...and to ensure her HUSBAND the HELLKNIGHT has not been MISTREATING her, of course..."
Conan spends three seconds brooding, then refocuses. "Orders heard and received, Venture Captain! Major Maldris, sir, good to see you!"
Conan stares blankly into space for a moment, trying to recall if he knows anything about the list of puissant individuals mentioned who will be at this party. "Sirs and ma'am! Do we have any ADVANCE INTEL--" he gives a stage wink, "--on these notables that might help us WIN THEM OVER? Favorite foods? Taste in humor? Sexual preferences?"
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Already leaning against the wall in the shadowed corner is a lean but slightly muscular elf with a cowl over his head.
His eyes widen momentarily as Conan enters and begins using his indoors voice. Looking down he sees a chicken for a weapon. Kalendir mumbles a quick incantation to see if Conan is playing them all for fools or if he truly is a fool.
Damned fool Humans........ Kalendir sneers as he grips his bow and listens to the Venture Captains orders.
Kalendir twitches at the mention of demons pouring forth from the Worldwound.
This is why I joined the Society. To rid this plane of these foul beasts.
His attention snaps back at the mention of dining with nobles and aristocrats instead of making a difference.
Striding forward he bends forward and places his gloved hands on the wooden table.
I have no problem with your request Venture Captain..... but wouldn't I be better suited on the front lines at the Worldwound?
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Ambrus glares at Kalendir. His voice steadily raises as he talks, though he remains focused and controlled otherwise.
"We serve the Decemvirate, and they have chosen you lot out of all our membership roll to go on this mission. If it is not good enough for you, you are free to leave."
As Major Colson gives him a look of mild concern and Lady Gloriana turns her attention to him, Valsin sighs. If he was the kind of man to apologize, he probably would about now.
"We are still planning that expedition into the Worldwound. If this dinner does not go well, it won't happen."
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”Now, allow us to give you more information, as Agent O'Brien requested. There has not been time to put together full dossiers, but between the three of us, we know the basics.”
Ambrus stands again and begins pacing.
”Scion Lord Kerkis is patriach of the very wealthy House Damaq, and appropriately also Lord Exchequer of the Absalom Mint. He practically controls this city's economy, and naturally has many ties to his family's homeland of Qadira. I hope I do not have to explain why his support is important.”
He pauses, scrunching his moustache as he gathers his thoughts before he continues.
”Grand Ambassador Dremdhet Salhar has ties to Osirion's royal family, naturally giving him connections throughout Osirion, Absalom, and Thuvia. He's good friends with Venture-Captain Alissa Moldreserva. She says he has a “big” personality, whatever that means.”
Ambrus turns his gaze to Major Colson and he stands, taking an at-ease stance before speaking.
"Senator Augustyn is a prominent member of the powerful banking family, House Naran. I believe he just got married recently? This would be number five for him, and the youngest one yet."
Major Colson's lip turns up before he can catch himself. He pauses as he collects himself, straightening his back as he realizes he might have been a bit too candid.
"That said, he's enormously popular with the Andoren people because of his philanthropy and demeanor. He also has ties to many government officials and military leaders who could prove instrumental in securing troops for the Mendevian Crusade."
Major Colson's eyes glance to the side as he draws another memory out, though he holds his at-ease stance admirably.
”Lord Rothos is the Captain of the First Guard, Commander Militant of Absalom, and the first patriarch of the now prominent Vastille noble family. He may be nobility, but he's a military man like myself, and I hear he's a straight-shooter. He usually doesn't go to gatherings like this.”
As Ambrus and Colson look to Lady Gloriana for her contribution, she remains as poised as ever, her head raised ever-so-slightly.
”Lady Dyrianna of House Avenstar the Head Hetaera of Calistria and Consul of the Courtesan's Guild. She has many business connections in Cheliax and Qadira, as well as numerous elven families. Certainly, I do not have to go into specifics about the other ways in which she has influence. She is a delight.”
She takes a deep breath in solemn preparation for her next description.
”Lady Vaelia is a widow in her twilight years, a fact obvious to anyone, despite her surgeon's best efforts. She has a tongue sharper than any creature you have read of in the Grand Lodge's bestiaries, honed by 96 years of gnashing her teeth. She controls a castle and several plantations and vineyards on the Jalrune River at the western edge of the Border Wood, and she has quite a mind for politics.”
Lady Gloriana's mirth suddenly returns to her, her eyes brightening.
”And last, but certainly not least, Lady Darchana,” Lady Gloriana smiles to herself. ”Matriarch of House Madinani, is the Second Spell Lord of Absalom and the Archdean of the Arcanimirium, the most prestigious magical university in Absalom. She is a rising star on the Grand Council, despite only currently having a lesser seat. She is quite brilliant, astoundingly so. I have made some small collaborations with her in the past.” Her widened, mischevious smile suggests a bit more.
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The chicken at Conan's waist does not detect as magical, although various other things on his person do.
Conan arches his brows at the cowled elf, but then returns his attention to the briefing. He strokes at his chin and gazes off into the middle distance. "As a naturalized citizen of the noble nation of Andoran, it will be my honor to engage in political and civil discourse with the duly-elected senator of my fine and exceptional nation."
Conan sidles a little closer to the elf and stage-whispers to him, "You won't find the secret of my popularity in mere magic alone, my friend. Some things cannot be quantified!"
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Fashionably late as always – and well aware of VC Valsin’s views on this personal trait, Luisila slinks into the meeting room as unobtrusively as possible. She waits for Conan’s BOOMING voice to provide a distraction, and then steals to the shadows beside Kalendir, before stepping out of the corner like she had been there the whole time.
Before you is a tall half-elven woman of an indeterminate age. Her wild, auburn hair is tied back in a practical ponytail. Her green eyes shine with mischief and match the color of the travel-stained cloak she wears. Her firm, wide mouth seems equally ready to convey humor, desire or contempt.
"Do we have any ADVANCE INTEL--" he gives a stage wink, "--on these notables that might help us WIN THEM OVER? Favorite foods? Taste in humor? Sexual preferences?"
Luisila raises a thin eyebrow. Subtle as a bulette attack … I like that!
“This is a Diplomatic mission right?” She throws up her hands. “Do we really need to beat about the bush like a 70’s porn?”
“Smooze the mucky-mucks and shake the tin for our latest expedition to the Worldwound. Was that so hard?”
... And smile nicely at Lady Dyrianna all night – outstanding! :(
“You said the Dress Code is full adventuring gear, not Black Tie right? Are you expecting trouble at an event attended by some of the most powerful people in Absalom on our home turf?”
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Ambrus Valsin turned his heavy gaze to Luisila. He says nothing at the moment, content to let Conan finish speaking but Luisila knows she can expect to hear something more later. Valsin finally turns to speak to the group.
"As for the matter of trouble, no, we are not expecting trouble. We were not expecting trouble at the Blakros Wedding, either. I will not excuse losing Pathfinders due to unreadiness."
He turns his gaze back to Luisila specifically.
"A flippant, disrespectful Pathfinder is a danger to herself and her team. Explore. Report. Cooperate."
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Luisila makes a deep curtsy to her Faction Head, lowering her eyes demurely. The Calistrian recites with the enthusiasm of a recruit yet to undertake Confirmation.
“Explore. Report. Copulate. You know me, Venture-Captain Valsin. When we’re backed into a corner, I’ll be the first to take one for the team.”
She looks sideways at the Bardbarian and *winks* “Conan, right? I’m Luisila.”
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The rustling of feathers is probably the first indication that there's a tengu in the room to some.
The 'Valiant Wing' of the Edge (and Andoran) fame looks over the room, giving the gathered important persons nods as he cracks his neck and squints a bit.
"It is an amazing chance to discover wisdom from those we must interact with for other reasons. Thank you for this opportunity to learn more about the world and the people who live in it."
Wei Ji's head bows slightly, almost as if he's made some sort of religious intonation, then he considers the room... and the rather forward comments by Luisila.
"No offense, ma'am, but you really aren't my type. You're... lacking a few attractive features..." Like feathers, a beak, a sense of sobriety...
And then all the antics of Conan sink in and the right hand comes up, to cover the bridge of the bird-man's beak.
Master of Masters, may I learn the patience you are so clearly providing me as a lesson.
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Ambrus Valsin did not appear to notice the entrance of the tengu. He looks over at Major Colson Maldris.
"Wasn't that tengu of yours, Wei Ji, supposed to be here?"
Almost on cue, Wei Ji suddenly reveals himself. Valsin squints, then smacks himself on the side of the head.
"Nevermind. Wish Pathfinders would stop all this sneaking around in briefings."
He shrugs and sighs.
Major Colson salutes Wei Ji then grins at Valsin.
"Look at it this way, Ambrus. He could have been Ollysta's tengu that does all the theatrics and shouting after he sneaks in."
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“Ma’am?” Luisila looks behind herself theatrically. “Is my mother here?”
She turns back to the Tengu and smiles. “My friends call me Luisila. I do so hope we shall be friends.”
The priestess fingers her holy symbol of the goddess of Revenge absently. “The alternative doesn’t bear thinking about.”
"No offense, ma'am, but you really aren't my type. You're... lacking a few attractive features..."
“Oh, none taken I assure you.” Luisila waves a hand dismissively, clearly meaning what she says. “I get that all the time in my line of work.”
“It’s nothing that can’t be solved with props, costumes and a little imagination.”
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"Term of respect. You seem much more the firebrand officer than a surly private, after all, ma'am."
Was that a hint of snark hidden in there? No, it really wasn't hidden all that well.
He raises his left hand slightly, and inked among the feathers is a well-done image of the Master's Rebus.
"We will be learning from one another. This is a fact of life." That tone is neutral, but then he starts shaking his head at the comment about props, costumes, and imagination.
"Odd. You didn't strike me as Zarta's sort of people. Again, no offense, ma'am."
He then glances to Ambrus and the other gathered officials of the Society.
"What else is important to know about this situation? Are there any restrictions on our activity that we should be aware of aside from good sense and measured actions?"
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Takkit's ears remain flattened throughout the 'heated' exchange between the other members, his tail twitching nervously every now and then. His eyes dart back and forth as the members speak, and it's obvious that he doesn't completely understand the nuances of the conversation. After everything calms down, he speaks up.
Hiding, talking, making friends... I can do those things. Maybe this mission will be easy? No need to buy fancy clothes, too! And I can bring my knives!
The prospect of being allowed to stay armed and armored clearly makes the kitsune happy.
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Luisila looks sideways at the Bardbarian and *winks* “Conan, right? I’m Luisila.”
Conan fixes Luisila with his bright white grin. "Ahhh? AH! Ah-HA, so you've heard of me! A fan, then!" (Mild striking of a pose.) "Did you want an AUTOGRAPH, dear lady? -- though perhaps, after our briefing concludes. Can't be mixing business with pleasure!"
(Conan seems blissfully oblivious that for the goddess whom Luisila serves, that line is often one intentionally crossed.)
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"We will be learning from one another. This is a fact of life."
“I have little doubt you are pondering my words, Ser.”
"Odd. You didn't strike me as Zarta's sort of people.”
“By Zarta, you mean Zarta Dralneen.” It’s not a question. “I’m pleased about that, Master for I am not.”
Luisila shakes her head. “The Paracountess's talents attract a somewhat different following from that of the Lady in the Room.”
“Lust is an inherent force common to virtually every sentient species the Goddess Oversees. A force that when harnessed appropriately can be used to achieve a great many things – not least of which is … fun.”
♝♝♝♝
"Ahhh? AH! A fan, then!"
“For as long as I’ve known of you, Ser.” The priestess dead-pans.
"Did you want an AUTOGRAPH, dear lady? -- though perhaps, after our briefing concludes. Can't be mixing business with pleasure!"
“Oh, certainly not!” Luisila pats the man’s hand. “Best wait ‘til after the mission then, hey?”
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Conan hesitates, perhaps the glimmer of suspicion twisting its way past his ego that the lady is making a comment he's not quite following-- but what she says next drives it right out of his mind. He nods eagerly.
"AN EXCELLENT IDEA. I'll have you know--" Conan leans in, voice dropping to stage-whisper volume, "--I've been known to... sign things other than paper. If you know what I mean." He pauses. "I mean body parts."
Perhaps feeling the glares of the Venture Captain and the faction delegates boring holes in the back of his head, Conan straightens up abruptly, turning to look back at Valsin.
"Sir, yes sir! Fiddlemourn Manor, tomorrow night, yes sir! Is this manor owned by the Blakros family, or a third party? Any legends of hauntings, GHOSTS in the attic? Skeletons in the CLOSET?" (Conan seems positively wistful for such.)
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Well, if I can't sneak around I'm not much good for much else! I can't help it, I'm kinda small compared to some other folks, you know. Quiven looks around then decides to stand up in his chair. Maybe you could see me better this way.
OK, so we just kinda just go to a party and make sure bad stuff doesn't happen, maybe chit-chat a little. Sounds easy. What could go wrong?
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Luisila screws up the side of her face. “I’ve never understood the signing of body parts. It seems so … temporary, Conan ya know?”
“Wouldn’t a true fan get a tattoo of the autograph? And if you’re wondering, I wouldn’t rule out getting a tattoo to remember this mission. Especially if I can make a good impression on my High Priestess – Dyrianna of House Avenstar.”
She looks serious.
Why do I get the feeling I’m going to regret asking this question …
Luisila welcomes Quiven to the discussion. “Why bananas, Master Glist? Any particular reason?”
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Takkit cocks his head sideways.
Why would you sign a body part? Wouldn't something else be better, like a picture? If you wanted to save writing on a body, you wouldn't ever be able to bath, I think. I don't know though, maybe it's different when you don't have fur...
The kitsune strokes the white tip of his bushy tail thoughtfully.
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Kalendir steps back at the Venture Captain's scolding. He gives a short smile as he returns to his corner with a small bow.
I did not mean any ill will towards the Decimvirite. If they feel that I am right for this mission then I will go.
Humans are always so short tempered.....
Kalendir continues to listen to the conversation as it quickly turns to sexual acts instead of the mission at hand.
....and always thinking about sex. They can never wait.
He lets out a small sigh and hangs his head.
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"What else is important to know about this situation? Are there any restrictions on our activity that we should be aware of aside from good sense and measured actions?"
Ambrus Valsin nods, a sign of respect for Wei Ji's thoughtfulness.
"Not particularly. 'Good sense and measured actions' covers just about everything I can think of."
"Sir, yes sir! Fiddlemourn Manor, tomorrow night, yes sir! Is this manor owned by the Blakros family, or a third party? Any legends of hauntings, GHOSTS in the attic? Skeletons in the CLOSET?"
Major Colson steps up to answer this question. He briefly forgets there's a table in front of him and smacks his knees into it. He maintains a stoic, militant compusure, though he appears to grit his teeth.
"It is indeed owned by the Blakros family, though not Michellia and Damien. They are borrowing it from their relative Oved Blakros for this occasion. There are no reports that I am aware of about there being any haunts or other such dangers on the premises."
"OK, so we just kinda just go to a party and make sure bad stuff doesn't happen, maybe chit-chat a little. Sounds easy. What could go wrong?"
Ambrus Valsin shrugs his mouth to one side.
"Everything."
I did not mean any ill will towards the Decimvirite. If they feel that I am right for this mission then I will go.
Ambrus Valsin nods and gets as close to smiling as the overworked and overserious man gets.
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"Why would you sign a body part? Wouldn't something else be better, like a picture?"
“The difference relates to how committed you are to the principle or personality concerned, Takkit. There’s a big difference between being involved, say with a picture and being committed to foregoing baths or having your body permanently adorned.”
Luisila racks her brain for an example before *snapping* her fingers. "Say you had a Full Taldan Breakfast this morning that included bacon and eggs, Takkit."
“The hen was involved in supplying you with your breakfast, but the pig was committed.”
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Conan's attention ping-pongs between the others at the extensive discussions of tattoos versus signings and other such considerations. As they exit the briefing room, he rubs at his jaw.
"A tattoo of me would be neat," he says brightly. "Though it seems like it'd be so easy for them to fail to capture my ESSENCE! Ooh, ooh-- what about the punchline of one of my jokes? I've got some CLASSICS-- but of course, you know that, as one of my devout FANS!"
Conan flexes a moment, considering his arms. "...I'm going to need to buy a new shirt," he informs everyone, regardless of their probable lack of interest in his wardrobe. "They just keep RIPPING!"
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Conan flexes a moment, considering his arms. "...I'm going to need to buy a new shirt … They just keep RIPPING!"
Luisila glances at Conan’s rippling physique before *rolling* her eyes behind his back.
She can’t help herself and replies innocently. “I’m surprised you let your more fanatical fans get so close to you.”
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The grounds of Fiddlemourn Manor are surrounded by a 12-foot-high fieldstone wall. A couple guards outside let you in as soon as they see your invitations. Within the wall, the grounds consist of a neatly trimmed lawn of green grass punctuated by broad-leafed, shady trees, numerous tropical plants, and immaculately tended flower beds divided by 10-foot-tall flowering tapestry hedges. A winding cobblestone path connects the manor to the stables and the garden.
Fiddlemourn Manor’s exterior walls are of mortared gray bricks, and The doors are of heavy oak and carved with images of galloping horses.
The front door opens and a gnome wearing loose but sharp black and red robes beckoning you inside. The interior walls are covered with smooth, white lime plaster with a 4-foot-high light maple wainscoting, and the ceilings are around 12 feet tall.
It appears the entire waitstaff of the manor is assembled before you, all at attention. The gnome takes a place to the side of the room, near the front of the staff. A dark-haired woman with fine features stands there in an immaculately fitted black and crimson dress. A chiseled blond man with gilded hellknight armor stands next to her, holding her arm in the crook of his. You all either recognize these two from descriptions or from meeting them firsthand at their wedding that this two are Damien and Michelia Blakros, your hosts.
To their side stands Major Colson Maldris and Lady Gloriana Morilla. Major Colson is dressed in his finest dress uniform, complete with tailcoat, and he holds his hat in his hands. Lady Gloriana's emerald dress is of the latest Taldan style, this season drawing on Ustalavic influences with bodices that accentuate the bust. She rests her arm in the crook of Major Colson's.
The hellknight drops his wife's arm so that he might give a proper bow.
”Welcome, Pathfinders,” Damien says. ”We were just speaking to Major Colson and Lady Gloriana about you.”
Michelia curties with practiced precision.
”Welcome, Friends,” she says. ”We are pleased to meet you.”
Lady Gloriana gives a slight nod of regard and Major Colson salutes.
Damien retakes his wife's arm. ”I have arranged for Tespren--” the gnome that answered the door steps forward ”--to show you around the manor so that you may properly inspect it.”
As he is forming his next thought, Michelia begins to open her mouth to interject, and her husband yields. She smiles at him, then you. ”But if you have any questions for us, please, feel free to ask now.”
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"But I must," Conan answers the other half-elf earnestly. "It's important to stay a man of the PEOPLE, you know? They keep me HUMBLE."
***
Conan has made good on his promise/threat to purchase a new wardrobe before the feast. He shows up with his breasplate-of-mithral polished to a dazzling sheen, worn over a cobalt blue silk doublet that is embroidered throughout with tiny, twinkling golden runes. A stone that flashes intermittently scarlet-and-azure tumbles in a serene orbit around his flaming hair, and he seems to have picked up, say, about a hundred gold pieces worth of jewelry since the briefing, mostly in the form of sapphires set in gold wire. Though his outfit bears the somewhat-mismatched-aesthetic that is common to adventurers, what with their various headbands and boots and cloaks and the like, he still strikes a visually arresting figure in his OWN DISTINCTIVE FASHION.
(Oh, and he's topped everything off with a new tricorn hat, to reflect his love for and allegiance to the great, free nation of Andoran.)
He beelines for Michelia, sweeping his hat off and giving the Blakros beauty a deep bow and taking her hand for a courtly kiss. "MY DEAR MICHELIA. It's magnificent to see you again! Your assistance in this matter will not be forgotten! I trust you are WELL? Married life is AGREEING WITH YOU?"
(Cue a sidelong, barely-restrainedly-hostile look at Damien.)
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Damien's expression turns fierce at the challenge, and he begins to open his mouth to respond in-force, but Michelia shows her training in courtly manners by speaking before him. She remains completely composed in the face of the dashing and imposing Conan, even as she sees her husband ready to come to blows with him.
"How lovely to see you again, Mr. O'Brien. Married life is everything I hoped it would be!" She pulls herself closer to her husband, laying her free hand on her husband's armored bicep. "Do not let the armor fool you; Damien is quite the puppy."
Damien's rugged countenance is undermined by the sudden bashful blush of red on his cheeks. "Hmm. Indeed."
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Possibly Conan is disappointed when Damien doesn't challenge him to a duel, but, he supposes that would make Major Colson Maldris and the others displeased. So probably it's for the best.
"I'M PLEASED TO HEAR IT," he says, plastering on his mega-watt grin. "Good of him to TAKE CARE of you and treat you like the PRINCESS you are." (Don't you get any funny ideas, Mr. Damien! He is W-A-T-C-H-I-N-G YOU!)
"I will be happy to share with the company tonight some of my exploits in fighting dev-- DEMONS," Conan says with another side-eye at Damien. "I will make the recountings HUMOROUS, as well, so as not to unduly alarm the guests. Only a dule amount of alarming."
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Michelia smiles politely at Conan's boasts, though the barest crack of mirth appears in her eyes. "I do hope you will enjoy the evening. You were popular with the guests at my wedding, and I expect to see the same once more."
Damien shifts his stance, his armor clinking uncomfortably.
"Indeed. Now, did any of you have any questions for us before your tour? We are holding the waitstaff hostage here so you have the chance to look over them so you would notice any new faces, and they have a party to attend to in less than an hour."
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Takkit wears his adventuring gear, just like requested, but he makes sure that all of his shiny knives are the visible ones and that his shadowy leather armor is polished and clean. He also gives his tail a nice fluffing while Conan does... Whatever he does. Takkit still doesn't understand the large man, but the other humans seem to like him.
The kitsune seems to be a bit more comfortable now that his mission has begun, and he looks over the waitstaff with a keen eye, occasionally sniffing them out when he thinks no one is looking. His now bushy tail flicks back and forth every now and then, and when he is done, he grins in a fox like fashion at the hosts.
I know their faces now, and their smells. New people won't get in. If they do, I'll know. I'm Takkit. Pleased to meet you.
He tries to emulate Conan's bow and hand-kiss. Maybe this is what you're supposed to do?
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Luisila spends the rest of the day preparing for Damien Blakros’s Feast. After a homemade peroxide job, she enjoys a leisurely bath, followed by hair-styling and makeup.
She is particularly happy with her new floor-length ivory silk dress. The golden brocade at the front contains raised patterns of slaadi, azata and chaos beasts – representing Threv, Velvet Wing and Tordurbar – three of Calistria’s handmaid/mens. While the silken sleeves are intertwined with golden wasps. The gold ecclesiastical ring worn on her right hand features the triple-dagger emblem of the Savored Sting.
To gain the greatest impact from the ballgown (after much agonizing) Luisila decides to forego her Mithral breastplate, but carries all of her remaining adventuring gear in her Pathfinder’s pouch disguised as a matching purse and an efficient quiver.
Finally, over her left breast, Luisila wears a Mendevian Medal for Gallantry, awarded during her time on the front during the Fifth Crusade.
♗♗♗♗
Having never met their hosts, Luisila *bobs* respectfully to Mrs and Mr Blakros. “How do you do? Luisila Mountjoy, humble and obedient servant of the Savored Sting. My, what a lovely home you have, Lady Blakros! I’m soooooo jealous of your garden!”
“May I ask which Hellknight Order you belong to, Ser Damien? I met quite a few of your brethren during my time as a Military Advisor in Mendev.”
Luisila also makes small talk with Gloriana Morilla. "You probably don’t remember me, Lady Gloriana. But you helped brief the first mission I undertook after Confirmation."
"It involved escorting a contract antiques appraiser across Kortos Island and delivering a message to the Low Azlanti Embassy in Escoban on behalf of the Taldan Government."
“It amazes me how quickly the time goes. For it doesn’t seem like that mission occurred very long ago.”
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Unlike the others with their somewhat fancier garb, Wei Ji has gone for a presentable, yet somewhat utilitarian uniformed look this evening, his Glammered Breastplate adjusted in appearance to bear the 'service blues' of an Eagle Knight, his feathers clean and neatly arrayed with his blades arrayed around his waist in a crisp yet professional manner.
A brassard wrapped around his left arm bears an intricate pattern that one might recognize once again as the Master's Rebus An alternative holy symbol for Irori and around his right arm there is a different brassard that bears an embroidered listing of the many different expeditions that he has managed throughout the Inner Sea region.
Over his shoulders rides a diaphanous cloak of fine elven manufacture that lends an almost ethereal air to his approach.
As he enters the Manor his eyes give a practiced search of the environs, watching the corners, the walls, the residents and denizens of the location along with the arrayed guests.
"Wei Ji, Valiant Wing of Liberty, Eagle Knight, humble student of the Master of Masters. It is hoped that we travel through this evening with an educational experience that brings us all greater understanding."
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Kalendir eyes dart about as he enters the room. While the rest are dressed in their fanciest clothing and gowns he remains in his simple green and brown adventuring cloak. The only difference is that Kalendir now wears a mask over his face. The simple white mask has a black spiral that ends at a single eye hole, creating a mesmerizing whirlpool effect.
Kalendir gives a simple bow to Michelia and Damien. Thank you for having us as your guests. His voice slightly muffled behind the mask as small tufts of light brown hair fall all around his face
We should have a look around to make sure that there are no secret passages that we are unaware of.
This large mansion almost feels.....cramped. I do miss the open forest.
Adjusting his quiver and bow on his back Kalendir turns to the gnome. Tespren. Would you show me about.
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Conan beams at Michelia's words, and also at Takkit imitating the hand-kissing. GOOD JOB THERE, TAKKIT.
As for questions... the red-haired reaver gazes off into the middle distance a moment.
"I know that no particular threats are ANTICIPATED," he says, "but have our guests any enemies who might theoretically try to RUIN things? One assumes the usual amount of demon-cultists and ASPIS but do our guests themselves have ENEMIES?"
Conan takes the time to heartily shake the hand of every single member of the assembled waitstaff, and to clap them on the back in a fashion that might nearly bowl over some of the smaller ones. "NICE TO MEET YOU ALL. Remember: if you see something, SAY SOMETHING!"
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He tries to emulate Conan's bow and hand-kiss. Maybe this is what you're supposed to do?
Michelia receives the bow and hand-kiss with perfect grace.
"A pleasure to meet you. I have never had the honor of meeting a kitsune before."
"I know that no particular threats are ANTICIPATED," he says, "but have our guests any enemies who might theoretically try to RUIN things? One assumes the usual amount of demon-cultists and ASPIS but do our guests themselves have ENEMIES?"
Damien nods gravely at the question, finally finding his stride in treating with the uproarious Conan.
"The Onyx Alliance is a sworn enemy of the Blakros family, and they have already attacked us once. There are also certainly demonic forces in the world that have an interest in preventing our success here as well."
“How do you do? Luisila Mountjoy, humble and obedient servant of the Savored Sting. My, what a lovely home you have, Lady Blakros! I’m soooooo jealous of your garden!”
Michelia gives a curtsy with one hand and flashes a smile.
"How very kind of you to say so. This manor is actually the home of my cousin, Oved, though. We are merely borrowing it for the evening as our own estates are not so conveniently located in Absalom."
“May I ask which Hellknight Order you belong to, Ser Damien? I met quite a few of your brethren during my time as a Military Advisor in Mendev.”
Damien raises his head in pride and takes a stiff, militant pose.
"The Order of the Scourge. "Without culpability chaos reigns." I have retired from active duty since marrying Michelia, however."
"You probably don’t remember me, Lady Gloriana. But you helped brief the first mission I undertook after Confirmation..."
Lady Gloriana smiles broadly and inclines her head in a polite nod as she curtsies. Her curtsy lacks the technical perfection of Michelia's, but has a certain dramatic flair. "Of course I remember you, Luisila. I make sure to remember capable agents. I would love the chance to work with you more in the future."
I can't wait to see it all. Are there any secret passages we should know about?
Adjusting his quiver and bow on his back Kalendir turns to the gnome. Tespren. Would you show me about.
Tespren nods, his movement sharp and directed.
"There are no secret passageways in this manor that we have been able to locate. It was formerly a music conservatory before it was bought and renovated by Oved, so I doubt there are any."
Tespren glances back towards his master and mistress, and Michelia gives him a nod.
"If you are ready for your tour, I am ready to oblige."
The assembled waitstaff disperse in a quick, yet orderly fashion, clearly desiring to return to their preparations.
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Conan takes the time to heartily shake the hand of every single member of the assembled waitstaff … "Remember: if you see something, SAY SOMETHING!"
Luisila appears to be pointing directly at the flesh-pressing Prince of Personality.
“Behind you, Conan! One of the kitchen staff is conveying a fowl of epic proportions to the ovens!” The priestess’ excitement stops suddenly if Conan turns around. “Oh. She’s gone now.”
⛱⛱⛱⛱
Luisila smiles at the Majordomo. “Have you ever visited the Blakros Museum, Mr Tespren?”
She *winks* at Quiven before scratching under both arms. “I’d love a banana daiquiri.”
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The tengu blinks a few times at the antics of the rest of the party and resists the urge to sigh a bit, as he glances to the particulars while awaiting the tour.
"What is the history of this place, and do you have the engineering floor plans stored in an archives where we may research them? The history of a place can sometimes lend itself to learning about a place's future, and floor plans can help us come up with a proper tactical overview of the situation."
Despite the comment, if the other people are willing to draw the attention, despite his formal appearance the avian pathfinder is more than willing to slip to the background and do things quietly if needed.
This does not include disrupting proceedings, but rather finding ways and means to keep the dinner 'on track' with minimal disruptions, which is part of the mission statement, after all.
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Tespren begins escorting the party throughout the manor. Rushing waitstaff occasionally bump into the party as they frantically attempt to finish preparations. Tespren stops at each room, doing little more than giving the name of it and letting the Pathfinders loose if they desire to search it.
Tespren scowls at Luisila's mention of the infamous Blakros Museum.
"Never. Thought if I was in-charge of security there, you can be sure they would not have had to call the Pathfinders there four times in four years."
Tespren gives Wei Ji a sideways glance, and he shrugs his mouth to one side at having to repeat himself.
"As I said before, this manor used to be a music conservatory." His expression softens as he realizes he did not share the whole story, so Wei Ji's question was slightly more acceptable. "It closed just over a century ago after the conservatory’s founder died of old age. The manor remained abandoned until 26 years ago, when Oved bought and renovated it."
He folds his arms and shrugs.
"I would not even know where to look for engineering floor plans. I have searched thoroughly--and expect you will do the same--and I did not find anything out of the ordinary."
Kennel: The kennel is a roofed, open-walled structure surrounded by a 5-foot-high wooden fence. It is home to five wolf hounds owned by Oved Blakros. The hounds are well-trained show dogs, and though they look menacing, they are quite friendly with strangers.
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Quiven would look up into the fireplace in the Great Hall (if it doesn't have a roaring fire in it, that is).
The halfling will also search around the kitchen, thinking that poison would be a fine way to disrupt the evening. He tries not to let the Taldan fella see too much of what he is doing since he looks like the foul-mouthed type.
Quiven will take plenty of time to check out all aspects of the garden. Lots of places to hide things and people here.
Finally the burglar would want to check out things in the cellar, even picking the lock to the well if need be. Never know, could be something in the water. Maybe we should check?