GM Ladile's League of Kick-Ass Dudes: A Pathfinder Society Campaign (Inactive)

Game Master Lady Ladile

Frankie nods along with Jan "Maybe he's just in a bad mood and we need to cheer him up. Mom would always get real happy when one of her man friends would show up with a bottle of wine, maybe we should try that!" He says as he looks behind the bar for anything along those lines.

Dalen doesn't quite manage to keep herself from wincing when she hear's Frankie's response to Jan.

Desna help him! I'm starting to wonder about his mother and whether it's wise to leave him with her!

She follows along, hoping that the sun doesn't burn her lobster-red.

Lazarus nods at the Ulfen's comments. "At the very least, learning what we can about the permit process and about any other options would be useful. Let's see what we can discover."

Diplomacy (gather information) about the official and 'unofficial' ways to exit and enter Khari: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10

Rather against her will and better judgement, Dalen finds herself pulled along by Frankie as the pair leave the table where the others sit discussing plans to head over to the bar. The barkeep looks up as the pair approach; though he does raise a rather curious eyebrow at Frankie's presence he maintains quite the professional demeanor as he asks, "What'll it be, friends? We have water, goat's milk, coffee, kahve, and tea - for the young one - and a variety of other, more 'potent' beverages to wet your whistle."

Meanwhile, back at their table near the corner, Lazarus sits quietly, watching the room and listening to the snatches of conversation that can be picked up from the other patrons - and perhaps hear of other, less...sanctioned....methods of getting into and out of the city. Unfortunately, what little he does catch about travel to and from Khari all continues to point towards the one option you already know about - getting a permit from the Magistrate's office. Of course he supposes that it might still be possible to try sneaking out of the city or greasing some palms, but they're only guesses at best.

As the group continues to mull things over, something occurs to Brayden. It seems rather strange to still need a local travel permit when the package given to the group by Ianareth Alazario - through Zefiro - has official authorization from the Athenaeum to explore the dig site in Ibhir. Perhaps an oversight by the hydra that is Chelish bureaucracy? It might be something worth looking into.

Frankie climbs up on a stool to better assess the options layed out before him "Do you have any cocoa? Maybe cocoa made with goat's milk? I've never had goat's milk I don't think... everyone back home just calls it milk."

His line of sight soon changes to the range of bottles and jugs on the wall "If we wanted to buy a bottle of something for a gift for a local person, like maybe the guy who gives travel passes out? What might a person like that want?" Frankie smiles, hoping he got his point across. Bluff Pass Secret Message, take 10: 21

"Somethin' worth a lot o' gold'd be my guess," Dalen answers with a sigh, "I'll just 'ave a mug o' whatever th' local brew is. If ya 'appen t' know anythin' about this pass t' leave th' city business, an' 'ow long it's been goin' on, I wouldn't mind payin' a little extra."

Of course it's Chelish bureaucracy... But we cannot take chances here.

Brayden sips on an alcoholic beverage the color of his skin. "Oof, a little sour. Try it, Frankie. Perhaps it will add a little hair to your chest," he grins, passing the mug over.

"When we're through enjoying ourselves here, and that could certainly take some time, let's get this permit at the mayor's office and be on with it, shall we?"

The barkeep's rather cheery demeanor shifts; it's subtle but it's there. He gives Frankie - and Dalen - a rather appraising look. "Well...if you're seeking to impress someone with...discerning...tastes, might I recommend the Kufonis? Even though it's a local white wine it possess a zesty acidity and floral aroma - quite popular among the city's elite."

His eyes shift slightly towards the rest of the group sitting at the table and then back to Dalen and Frankie. "In fact, I suspect it might even help to...open new doors...if given to the right sort of individual," he finishes, having clearly picked up what Frankie was laying down.
________

Throwing up a post in Discussion in a moment, please go have a look when you can!

Meredith gets bored. "Alright, let's go to the Magistrate's office. Come on, Denair."

Meredith finds her allies and tells them to follow her to the office. She dreads another long, boring wait. She even offers to dispel Denair, but she refuses.

Frankie smiles and nods emphatically "That sounds perfect! It isn't expensive is it? I... I don't have very much money..." He looks up at the man with hopeful eyes.

Take 10 diplomacy and bluff: 20 and 22.

"I..." the barkeep hesitates and then sighs. "Look friends...I have a business to run and I can't simply give this to you for free," he says, lowering his voice. "I don't know what exactly you and your friends have planned and I don't want to know, alright? I'll let it go for a discount *if* you agree that you don't tell anyone where it came from. Deal?"

Assuming you agree, you can use the funds given by the Athenaeum to pay for the wine so don't worry about tracking anything!
________

You finish up your drinks and leave the Desert's Jewel and, after procuring some directions, make your way to the office of Magistrate Mavius Giovenci. Scores of applicants hoping to procure official travel permits fill the bulky sandstone building, and clerks steadily work their way up and down the lines to identify each applicant and inquire about their business. Seeing little other choice, you sigh quietly to yourselves and fall in line, waiting your turn to speak to one of the clerks. As you wait, you can't help but overhear a bit snatch of conversation between a man and a halfling standing just ahead in the line.

"This is my third time here in as many days," the halfling laments. "My bake shop, for some reason the city's got it listed as a castle! Do you know what the taxes are for a castle!? And it's ridiculous, that lot is nowhere big enough for a castle in the first place, anyone should know that!"

The man to whom the halfling is talking whistles and shakes his head. "Pretty big mix-up there! But they won't sort it out?"

"No!" the halfling exclaims angrily. "I've talked to four different people and each one of them sent me to speak with someone else, 'Oh I'm sorry but the Property Assessor's office is in another building,' - bunch of malarkey! It's in this building, which is where I started to begin with! And then, once I finally got in to see him he said he'd send someone out to reassess the property - know what he did? He got there, took one look and said that he saw a castle! He argued with me for nearly half an hour over the imaginary castle that I apparently run my bakery out of! If I can't talk to someone who's got any sense soon I'm gonna-"

Whatever the disgruntled halfling is going to do ends up remaining a mystery as one of the clerks finally reaches the group's place in line. "Are you all together? Names and your business please," the clerk, a young woman in her early 20s, drones, sounding quite bored.
________

I can't take credit for Disgruntled Halfling, as his tale is an amusing little tidbit you can run across if you ever play Baldur's Gate II: Shadows of Amn - but it seemed very fitting :)

Nice story, I don't remember that line, but I didn't play BG:2 much if at all that I can remember.

Frankie smiles and nods discreetly at the barkeep "You sir drive a hard bargain, but a fair one. We'll be sure to let everyone know about your afternoon drink specials!" He winks and hops off the bar after paying with a few coins he'd liberated from the 'travel fund'.

Oh a line... a long line.

Frankie quickly gets bored standing in line, at least the bakery story is interesting "They really thought your bakery was in a castle? But it wasn't? Wow, that stinks!" He does his best to sound sincere but he's really too distracted about thinking what castle donuts would taste like.

"Very important business Miss Lady!" He looks at her shoes and points "Those are really pretty shoes, did your boyfriend get them for you? I bet you must run real fast with shoes like that..." Frankie tries to soften the woman up before she decides their fate. Take 10 on diplomacy for a 20

Dalen gives the bartender an apologetic shrug and opens her mouth to say something when Frankie finishes taking the slack from her arm and pulls her after him.

"Please don't tell anyone where you got that from," she begs the young lad, feeling totally out of her depth between the bureaucrats and the pint-sized Pathfinder known as Frankie.

===

Dalen looks thoroughly miserable as she waits in the baking sun. She was used to the cool, temperate forests of Taldor, not this city of blinding light and searing sand. She does her best to keep the sun off, but despite her best efforts, her face and arms are a bright red by the time the official comes about.

"I think what my overeager nephew is tryin' t' say is that we're part of the Athenaeum dig an' we need t' get t' th' place where they're diggin'. We've got a gift for 'is excellency's troubles an' hope that'll be worth any fuss we cause."

Diplomacy (Aid Frankie): 1d20 ⇒ 20 And here I was expecting utter failure.

"Lazarus Logos, young lady, and my colleagues. We're in Khari at the behest of the Athenaeum to assist in the research of some ancient Taldan artifacts. It seems we require a permit to exit the city to pursue our work. Will these documents from the Atheneum suffice?"
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (10) + 7 = 17
Looks like I got ninja'd while I was distracted from posting earlier. Lazarus will aid Frankie's Diplomacy check.

"Run f-...er, what?" the young clerk repeats, looking at Frankie with a baffled expression. "They're not running shoes...not at all, but thank you?" She shakes her head, muttering, "Men and boys, young and old, not a one understands a thing about women's fashion."

Still, the ice-breaker was enough to rouse the woman from whatever work-induced doldrums she'd slipped into and both Lazarus and Dalen can see a spark of recognition when they mention the Athenaeum. Recognition and surprise. "A gift? But...but how did you...?" Then she sighs. "Well, no matter I suppose. Wait right here, please."

The clerk turns away and bustles back into the building, out of sight. After about five minutes she returns, holding an envelope. "Here," she says, lowering her voice as she offers the envelope. "The Magistrate seemed to be expecting you. He wants to handle this matter in person, for whatever reason...but judging by that bottle, word has already reached you...somehow. At any rate, that should take care of the business you have here. Have a nice day," she concludes with a forced smile before moving away to help the next person in line.

Within the envelop, you find the following:

Judging by the position of the sun, you've still got several hours yet before sundown. Plenty of time to discuss your next move, seek out information, and maybe even....do some shopping?
__________

What can you learn about the magistrate, Mavius Giovenci?

(Jan tries to look interested in the discussion and even tried to pitch in on the information gathering).

Diplomacy (AID): 1d20 ⇒ 10

Diplomacy (Gather Information): 1d20 ⇒ 4

The little Bastard has a glib tongue, I will give him that!

(looking at Frankie), "Good job."

Knowledge (local): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (15) + 7 = 22

Lazarus gathers his companions under the shade of an ancient olive tree some distance away from prying ears.

"I recall that Mavius Giovenci is a cousin of the lord-mayor of Khari. The magistrate takes advantage of his station to enjoy all the pleasures the city has to offer, therefore his palanquin is a regular sight on the street as Mavius travels between the mansion and several high-end establishments and the opera."

The samsaran draws his waterskin from his rucksack and takes a sip.

"The lord-mayor, Marsiol Giovenci, isn’t too fond of his cousin. He secured the post of magistrate for Mavius as a favor to Mavius’s father, yet Marsiol feels that his cousin doesn’t live up to the city’s standards. The lord-mayor is concerned that Mavius might make him regret the favor by becoming entangled in some scandal."

He looks at his friends. "We might want to learn more about the magistrate before we meet him. Foreknowledge will enhance our chances for a fruitful dialogue."

Diplomacy Gather Info: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (7) + 10 = 17 Frankie starts to chat up others in the line until one of the Blue Men drag him off into the shade "Ya, shade is nice. Its pretty hot here, and sunny! Not a cloud in sight!" He pulls out his own water skin and takes a steady drink, a bit dribbling down his chin.

"Oh we get to go to a fancy dinner? Oooo that might be fun! Or it might be really boring... I don't think I've been to a fancy dinner. Mostly at home we just ate whatever we could find around. Mom always locked the good stuff up high, but it was easy to get once she took her afternoon naps." He pauses thoughtfully for a moment, half listening to Lazarus.

Yup, bored.

Meredith is bored. This line is a waste of time and just a way to extract money. The halfling's castle plight affirms all of her suspicions. She's surprised Denair seems to be alright in this.

At least the clerk didn't give them a run around.. but another letter and another party invite. Ugh. That means she's going to have to... dress up.

"Sounds like this Mavius guy may be our express ticket out of here." Meredith grunts. "I'm feeling more and more boxed in by the hour. He's probably going to want us to do something for him in exchange. Ugh."

Meredith makes her way to a tailor. She plunks 100 gold pieces on the table. "I need to impress a local nobleman. Get me a fancy dress and jewelry to go with it."

Spending 80 gp on a courtier's dress (this includes 50 gp of jewelry)

Denair basks in the sun as they all wait in line. Reminds her of the particularly sunny days at home. Back when Meredith was the Queen of Thorns. All of this sand was easy to plant her feet/trunk into as well. If only water wasn't so scarce around here...

When she learns Meredith is going to get fancy, she is delighted. "Oh, I can make everybody smell like roses! Or mint! Or Sage!" She calls upon her magical abilities and casts Prestidigitation as many times as it takes.

Lazarus accompanies Meredith to the Nimble Needle, "I require a bespoke robe befitting a samsaran gentleman, thank you." While the tailor, Ned 'Knuckles' Threadbear, sets to work on a dress for Meredith and robes for himself, Lazarus steps next door.

The wizard-priest enters Gems, Jewels, and Jellybeans and approaches the dwarven jeweler, Bobby 'Blood' Diamond. "Something understated and classic, sir, a ring and other tasteful bling."

(30gp for a Courtier's Outfit and 50gp for complementary jewelry.)

Dalen's all too happy to be out of the sun as the group walks into the fine clothier's shop. At least, she is until she hear's Meredith's grumbling. Her face goes pale white as she realizes they've been "asked" to attend a dinner party.

"I can 'ear my mother laughin' all th' way from Taldor!" She gives a soft, piteous moan as she slumps against the wall.

GM: Would you mind if I wrote out a little scene of Dalen getting her dress for the party? Meredith's not the only one who hates dressing up.

Brayden purposefully nudges the young clerk as he steps through the offices, attempting to knock the papers out of her hands. He probably succeeds. "Oh, my, I'm so sorry, miss, allow me." Continuing his best attempt at a meet cute, Brayden squats down and quickly grabs every last sheet, though whatever order they were in is surely ruined. He gets back up and calmly hands the stack to her. "I apologize. I should really be more careful. Perhaps a dinner - on me, of course - would right this inconvenience?" He puts on his best smile. Cha: 1d20 ⇒ 18 A beaming smile indeed.

The human in you was so much more desirable than you, don't you think?

With everyone rushing out to procure fancy clothing, Brayden thinks little of it, and waits around for them to finish up. "I understand fancy clothes go a long way with the nobles, but I believe in the power of firm, direct speech. Like bumping into a fine lady to let her know you are interested. Firm and direct." He smiles, though he doesn't really realize how contradictory he is. "I think I will pass on the garish garments this time."

Denair's having the time of her life spraying people with perfume reminiscent of fruits and herbs!

Meredith just exhales, knowing she won't be able to stop the fey.

Dalen - go right ahead! The creativity is nice to see and should anyone (somehow) write stuff that contradicts anything in the scenario that's important I'll just figure out a way to roll with it :)
__________

With most of the party in agreement that a little dressing up for the occasion is probably in order, most of the group scatters out into the city to procure the necessary garments while Brayden elects to stay under the shade of the nearby tree and wait for their return. At first he remains a solitary figure under the tree, watching the slow crawl of the lines into the nearby office and the passage of people up and down the street. But it isn't long before a figure breaks away from the mass of humanity and makes its way towards the tree. As they draw closer, Brayden can see that its the young clerk from earlier - who'd stammered something incoherent and hurried away after he'd helped retrieve the papers he'd made her drop.

"Oh, g-good...I, um...thought you might've been long gone by now," she remarks as she steps into the shade. "But I'm glad you're still here. I, um...I'm sorry I ran off earlier...I wasn't expecting a dinner invitation of my own," she laughs. It's a little nervous and a little shy, but warm. "It was enough that you helped me with my papers. Most of the time people just start screaming like it's somehow my fault that they ran into me."

"Anyway, I wanted to apologize and um...let you know that I'd still be interested in dinner...if you are?"
__________

Both at the Nimble Needle and at Gems, Jewels, & Jellybeans, the artisans and crafters set to work on producing the finest of clothing and bling for Meredith, Lazarus, and anyone else who cares to make a few purchases - after taking everyone's measurements, of course, a process that some might enjoy more than others.

After an indeterminate amount of time passes, Meredith is presented with a rather lovely dress of blue and black hues. "Most would have taken one look at your fiery hair and put you in green my dear, but not I," 'Knuckles' explains with a smile. "These colors will not only compliment your hair but your pale skin, as well. You'll find that the fabric is light and airy, perfectly suited for the Kharijite climate as well."

He then turns to Lazarus, offering a silken robe of black, with golden embroidery at the cuffs and hem. "And for you, sir. It was something of a challenge to determine the best shades for your rather unique hue, but I believe this should suit you nicely. The embroidery will draw the eye but the overall effect is understated, which seems to suit your tastes as best as I can see."

And with your fine duds in hand, it proves quite easy for 'Blood' next door to find the perfect accessories to go with them. A fine silver pendant and earrings for Meredith and a pair of gold men's rings for Lazarus complete the effect - leaving both of them looking as though they would be right at home at any high society function from Egorian to Oppara.

Meredith exhales a sigh of relief when she's out of the jewelry store. "Ugh, I hate this. I feel defenseless without my chain shirt."

Denair uses her Prestidigitation spell to spray Meredith with a rosy mist, making her only more irritated.

Frankie wanders in with the others to the tailor's shop "Oooo fancy duds!" He'll order up something as well, letting the adults take the lead on what he should wear and what would be a reasonable amount to pay. I guess a fancy outfit, bow tie, with jewelry.. who can resist a well dressed little kid!

"So, friends, I would still like to learn more about our host, before we proceed to dinner. Shall we ask around a bit more?"

Diplomacy (gather information): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (5) + 7 = 12

Dalen looks around, utterly lost until a young woman glides up to her like a spirit on a zephyr.

"Hello dear! You seem troubled. I am sensing that you suffering from some great uncertainty," she says, her voice turning deeper and more spooky as she begins the fortune teller act.

"I, uh...I just don't know much about clothes," Dalen mutters flushing as she shuffles back a step.

"That anyone can see! Who wears peasant hunter's garb in the heat of the desert! Come! Come! I will make you a gleaming desert jewel that men will fall madly in love with!" The woman, one of the shop's employees, grins gleefully as she drags Dalen into the back before the young Pathfinder can so much as protest.

A short time later, she comes out covered in fine silks and diaphanous scarves that are far more frank about the figure beneath them than her clothing had been. She glares at the others, daring them to say anything, anything at all, about her new outfit, or the freckles on her ivory shoulders.

"Well darlings," the woman purrs, "what do you think of this lovely dove?"

A short time later, she comes out covered in fine silks and diaphanous scarves that are far more frank about the figure beneath them than her clothing had been. She glares at the others, daring them to say anything, anything at all, about her new outfit, or the freckles on her ivory shoulders.

Another prisoner of fashion, I see.

"At least you don't smell like a bouquet of roses." Meredith frowns. She reflexively extends her left arm to stop Denair, who she knew would try to spray Dalen with fragrance.

Frankie and Dalen also get in on playing dress-up, though one is clearly more enthusiastic about it than the other. While Dalen is whisked away by one of the extremely helpful assistants several others make quite the fuss over young Frankie and seem to delight in dressing him up, almost as if he were a doll. When all is said and said, Frankie finds himself dressed in an outfit that would befit any young lordling - why, he could get into all kinds of trouble dressed like this!

"Oooh, you all look splendid," one of the assistants gasps as everyone gathers around to admire the finished product that is the group, dressed for a fancy dinner date. "Don't they, Knuckles?"

"Yes, Agnes is right - each of you look like a work of art," the tailor agrees, smiling as he admires his handiwork. "And, uh...carry the aroma of an entire flower shop," he adds, coughing a bit as Denair continues trying to spray everyone with various fragrances.

Those of you who are dressed to impress meander your way back towards the shade tree where you'd left Brayden and Jan a few hours earlier. As you stroll along, some of you continue trying to keep your eyes and ears open for any additional information that you can pick up about your host...
__________

Normally I'd move things along a bit further folks but I feel that I should point out that Lazarus seems to be hoping the group can glean just a little more information about Mavius Giovenci. DC 25+ can be a rough check to make but I didn't see anything that disallows Aid Another attempts on Diplomacy to Gather Information if everyone wants to try and help out. But if not, that works too and I'll move us along to the dinner proper!

If I can aid another...

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (5) + 7 = 12 Success

"So this Mavius Giovenci... that's why I'm all dressed up. What do you know about him?"

Dalen, too mortified to say anything, does her best to stay calm and not think about how her mother and father would react.

"I swear," she mutters under her breath, "if someone proposes t' me now, I'm gonna kill 'em!"

All this...

(Jan finds a good place inside a local bar to hunker down, eat some mutton and drink several tankards of ale).

(Looking the rest of the party as they set off to meet with Mavius Giovenci), "Have fun, I will not be missing you... and I know you will not be missing me."

Brayden plucks a blue daffodil from beneath the tree and hands it to the flirty clerk. "Find me at the Wicked Fork in a few days. I have an expedition to join, but I look forward to a fine meal under the stars." He winks subtly. "I'm Brayden, by the way." He turns and walks away.

Hmph. I didn't think you still had it in you.

"Quiet," the samsaran mumbles before he heads to the town fountain to see if he can assist in gathering information.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6
It appears he had much better luck with the clerk than he did with the townspeople.

Frankie already made his gather info attempt for our host, a 17 I believe.

Frankie struts around in his new costume, proud as a peacock (at least while he doesn't think about how much lighter his piggy bank is). "These sure look fancy! They aren't as comfortable as my regular clothes though.. and WAY less pockets. I'm not sure I'm a big fan of less pockets..."

Frankie was sure to stuff his mithril chain into his backpack, and is wearing his wrist sheathes (dagger, CLW wand) and concealable thieves tools are tucked away.

It doesn't take too long for Frankie is scuff up his shoes and pop a button off his cuff. "How long we gotta wear this stuff Meredith?" He pleads as the walk around chatting with people.

"Until we finish this meeting..." Meredith grumbles. "At least no one will pay attention to you."

Denair is ready to prestidigitate Frankie's buttons and clean the gunk off his shoes. She's helping!

Dalen feels unusually self-conscious as the group decides to see what else they can find out. On the upside, if there was one to this situation, the woman had insisted on adding a light, airy cloak that would help keep her cool and keep the sun off her fair skin.

Lazarus apologizes as his stomach rumbles. "Excuse me."

When the group reassembles as afternoon wanes and evening waxes, he adds, "Shall we go see what's for dinner?"

Satisfied that you've all prepared as best as you can for the dinner, you part ways with Jan for the time being and Brayden leaves his lovely new friend with a smile and a scribbled note detailing his travel itinerary. As you all stroll away down the street, some of you might happen to catch a rather confused, "Wait...the Wicked Fork? But...but isn't that in Corentyn???"
__________

Using directions given to you earlier you make your way to the magistrate's mansion, which is of modest size but appears well-maintained. Upon receiving your invitation at the gate, a halfling servant guides you along a meticulously trimmed and landscaped path and onto a terrace which overlooks the bay near the Arch of Aroden. A ring of sitting pillows and several water pipes furnish the terrace. At the end of the terrace sits a handsome, dark-haired man with an easy smile - though years of indulgent living seem to have taken some toll on his physique. The air is humid as thundering clouds gather far from the shore.

"My dear guests! Please, relax and enjoy yourselves," Mavius Giovenci smiles, beckoning everyone to sit. "There are plenty of local delicacies to be had and the wine is exquisite. I'm sure you're eager to get down to business, yet there will be time for that later," he laughs. As if on cue, several servants begin to parade out onto the terrace one-by-one, carrying trays loaded with a number of foods: spiced sausages, lamb stew, figs, and many more.

Jan

Meanwhile, while the rest of the party heads off to wine and dine with the magistrate, Jan decides to head for a watering hole a bit more suited to his tastes. Luckily there are plenty such places down along the docks and it doesn't take him long to settle on The Naga's Nightie.

As he strolls on in and ambles up to the bar, he gets a few curious stares from some of the locals. "Well now...don't see many folks like you down in these parts," the bartender remarks. "What'll it be?"

While he's no glutton, Lazarus Logos is however something of a bon vivant, relishing all of life's pleasures, including fine wine and cuisine. He samples each glass and morsel with the care and deliberate consideration it deserves.

"Signore Giovenci, thank you for the invitation to dinner in your impressive home. My name is Lazarus Logos," spoken with a slight bow and hands pressed together, palms touching and fingers pointing upwards, thumbs close to his chest. "You say you are interested in certain relics of the past, artifacts from the Taldan Armies of Exploration?"

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (19) + 7 = 26

Dalen is shy as she takes off the cloak that had been protecting her and reveals the outfit underneath. Her face flushes a little as, once again, she feels like she's on display.

"Th-thank you for having us, your grace," she says, doing her best to remember the manners she had to adopt while guiding nobles on hunts in the Border Wood. "I hope that I do not shame you with my humble appearance."

Not sure what colors and jewelry would look good on someone who's pale with freckles, has hair the color of bronze, and blue eyes. I figure the style of her dress is a cross between a modern gown and noble Roman dress. Tight enough to showoff, but still fairly comfortable.

Diplomacy(Aid): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (19) + 8 = 27
Meredith grins. "As Lazarus said, we're glad to be here." Meredith carefully eats small bits of food- not enough to overindulge, but not enough to be rude. Old habits die hard.

She tries to get the nobleman's attention, especially when she realizes how out of place Dalen feels. No one likes to be put on display.

Denair stays outside, climbs to the rooftop of the manor and keeps watch. She loves watching everyone run around, even if it seems overindulgent.

Perception: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (2) + 13 = 15
Stealth: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (6) + 14 = 20

Frankie walks in next to Meredith and hops up on a pillow, waving at the host and introducing himself "Hey there! I'm Frankie!" He says before keeping the large number of questions at bay and doing his best to smile and look cute as the adults talk about their important stuff. Auto aid diplomacy

As the food starts to arrive Frankie's curiosity becomes apparent. After every bit of food to served he stops to ask the server as they leave what exactly they just dropped off. "Spicy sausage? Where's the eggs? Oooo! Can you bring me some pancakes and maple syrup? I have some syrup if you don't... Oh those are figs, Meredith likes those!" He snatches up a few and promptly hops across a few oversized pillows to drop them on her plate before hopping back to his seat with a smile. As the dinner wears on he finds more and more excuses for the pillow jumping routine.

"Oh, it is nothing, nothing at all," Mavius responds cheerfully to Mavius with a dismissive wave of his hand. "In fact, it is my pleasure to meet those that the Athenaeum itself would consider specialists in the field of archaeology, Master Logos. Why, you will have to tell me all about it, but-" he smiles, holding up his hand before any of you have a chance to speak, "that can wait until after the meal and after-dinner entertainment! For now, please, eat, drink, be merry."

And so the dinner goes. Mavius gently but deftly rebuffs any attempts to talk business at the dinner table, preferring to instead engage in idle conversation all while consuming his dinner with great gusto - and in great quantities. He seems pleased to see everyone partaking of the feast, watching you to gauge your reactions to the various cuisines.

"Oh yes, that is quite the spicy dish is it not?" he chuckles upon seeing Dalen sample a spoonful of spicy soup and then quickly go for her water. "Not to everyone's taste though, I must confess. Try the milk my dear, it will ease the burning better than water," he continues sympathetically.

A bit later, during one of Frankie's pillow jumping routines, a clatter is heard as the bottle of Kufonis he and Dalen had acquired earlier comes rolling out of one his many hidden pouches. Mavius' eyes widen with surprise and then delight. "Ah, Kufonis! And a fine vintage, at that!" He gives you all a sly look. "Seems I'm not the only one who's done their research, eh? It will make a fine addition to our feast!"

A bit later, he inquires "It is your first time visiting Khari, is it not?" He finishes off a great goblet of the Kufonis, sighing contentedly. "Tell me, what do you think of our fair city?"

And meanwhile, through it all, Denair sits hidden up on the terrace roof. The view of the sun dipping towards the horizon, the wind in her...fur?...branches?...vines?...it's all quite pleasant. Of course she does keep an eye out on the scurrying servants as they come and go, but nothing seems amiss.

"We've only just arrived in Khari, and we'd love to learn more about its past and its present. Tell us, do your duties and responsibilities as magistrate present you with time and opportunity to explore the lands lying outside the city? Have you been to the dig site yourself?"

Lazarus pauses, considering a diplomatic way to broach a sensitive subject. "Does your brother support your interests, or do you have to rely on agents such as ourselves to be your eyes and ears outside the city?"

After nearly choking on the soup, Dalen is more cautious in trying the various dishes, tasting them to see how spicy they were before taking larger bites. Given how nervous she was and how hard she was trying to avoid spilling anything on the new, and expensive clothing, the bites were not that much larger. The question about the city catches her off guard, and she says what she'd been thinking since their time in the line to get a pass out of the city.

"It seems that many o' th' clerks don't care about doin' their jobs right," she says before glancing at the magistrate then taking a long swallow from her water in the hope that someone would distract the man before she found herself in a lot of trouble.

I don't belong here, she thinks as she drinks, I'm too hot tempered, too unrefined. I'm no jewel of the court, just a simple, rough forest guide.