"Perhaps Lashonna is just trying to survive to current situation in the city... we certainly need to know more about her" nodding to Ascaria, he proposes "Perhaps we can directly ask her for a meeting to discuss about what happened in the past with the cult, as she was directly involved, and also ask her about Rhorsk himself"
Solrisa smiles at Eidi, either looking for cookies or because it was a very good idea.
”Yes, we will need to be quick, we will!” Solrisa smiles in anticipation of the party.
"I agree that we should have as much information that we can get."
At the behest of the elder half-elf, the Outcasts find their way back to the Temple of Asmodeus, this fine Sunday afternoon, where they are able to easily secure a private audience with the priest Vierias. Morning Mass has been concluded well before the afternoon, and the priest admits that he'll see no one into the evening.
Vierias is congenial, and keeps conversation to shallow waters, where it is safest to tread. "You've brought guests, master Eidi. You are too kind. We welcome donations, however little. Are you interested in another book purchase, perhaps? How may I be of service?"
Eidi's initial inquiry regarding one Rhorsk, priest of Abadar, goes wholly unanswered, as Vierias has no idea, both of the name or the man. "I'm afraid I never made his acquaintance. An old friend of yours?"
Eidi smiles at the priest when he talks about donations "Ahh! I still hope the book will make it to the proper hands. I am very willing to know how does he receive the present"
"As about Rhorsk... he once wrote the History of Alhaster. We think he might be related to the cult or that he might have some extra information about it... there are rumors he might have left in the city certain... heritage, something that might come of use to know more about the cult. I am most interested" Eidi attempts to discern if the priest is saying the truth by staring at his eyes "Perhaps you do know someone that might know more about him. Or some place were a man like that might have lived or left part of his knowledge"
Solrisa waits near the Temple of Asmodeus, but declines to enter. She can wait outside, enjoying the sun and fresh air and any ‘angels’ she sees flying about.
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Mortimer looks up at the looming Church of Asmodeus and frowns.
Where are the windows? Why is there only one door? What if there were a fire? I guess that's the point, then...
Bored, he leans up against the wall of the Church as Eidi enters, and retrieves a small wooden spool painted with a blue daisy on each side. He then retrieves a four foot long piece of cotton string, and loosely ties it around the middle of the spool. He ties a small loop on the other end of the string and slips his finger through it while coiling the string around the middle of the spool starting from the spool end.
In no time, the spool with the coiled string rests firmly in the palm of his hand.
He flings it away from him as if to throw it, and flicks his hand back as soon as the string is fully uncoiled with the spinning spool at its end. He's delighted when the spool snaps back into his hand, re-coiling the string around it as it moves.
"Huh," he chortles, quite pleased. "' never made one of these before...," he says to Sol.
He leans on the church and continues to practice flinging it away from him and drawing it back.
He fails to notice that the device's color is an exact match of Ascaria's blue piping and the blue adornments Sol had chosen for her armor.
"As about Rhorsk... he once wrote the History of Alhaster. We think he might be related to the cult or that he might have some extra information about it... there are rumors he might have left in the city certain... heritage, something that might come of use to know more about the cult. I am most interested. Perhaps you do know someone that might know more about him. Or some place were a man like that might have lived or left part of his knowledge."
Vierias nods politely, as Eidi recounts the man known as Rhorsk.
"I am certainly not suggesting you search the abandoned Church of Blessed Deliverance, but it was not always what it is today. Perhaps your Rhorsk left something of his writings on the shelves, cleric of Abadar as you say. It may have been a decade or two, but the building has all but been forgotten to the citizens of Alhaster." Vierias smiles, as if seeking confirmation that what he speaks is sufficient.
The high priest of Asmodeus appears to be truthful in his demeanor, and is of course being coy about his suggestion. There could be ears close by...
Eidi smiles catching the sense of the words of Vierias "Thanks most faithful servant. We are still trying to understand how things work in Alhaster" and the half-elf adds a sublte eye wink at the priest.
***
Once the group is reunited back, at the first opportunity to use telepathy Eidi will transmit the following message Vierias seemed very scared to tell it plainly and openly but he seemed truthful in his demeanor and being coy on his way of suggesting a curse of action. The High Priest of Asmodeus truly believes we might find some writings left from Rhorsk at the shelves of the abandoned Church of Blessed Deliverance. I think we should not let his suggestion to pass forgotten
"Vierias seemed very scared..."
Mortimer listens keenly to Eidi's recap of his conversation with the Asmodean priest.
I don't trust priests of Asmodeus. Mortimer looks at Eidi. But I trust Eidi.
'cursed'? Eidi, sometimes your accent tosses me for a loop, Mortimer broadcasts, still flinging the blue spool to and fro from its thread. Surely you mean 'course' of action. Either way, don't you think what we'll find at the abandoned Church of Blessed Deliverance will still be there after the banquet? So, let's see what the banquet has to offer, then check out this abandoned church.
He thinks for a moment before using the telepathy again.
Do you think you'd fancy Lady Lashonna at all, Eidi? We'll need to get her attention pretty quick at the party in order to garner a private audience, like Ascaria said. (link)
Mortimer rubs his 6 o'clock beard.
Coarse. That reminds me... if we're still going to this party, I have more cleaning up to do...
cursed'? Eidi, sometimes your accent tosses me for a loop
Eidi's face blushes and his tone seems angry "For an Azlanti speaker both words sound same. How many languages can you speak? You never misjudge close words I guess"
But the half-elf softens when talked about Lady Lashonna "Well... it will still be there after the banquet, certainly. Mmmm... the Lady Lashonna has seen many things in history and the world. I am certainly intrigued by her figure. I can't wait to have a glimpse and a talk at her"
Solrisa telepathies too.
Oh, okay, yes. Uh huh. Yes, it will be a lovely stroll I hope. Do you think there will be any trouble?
Solrisa waits patiently.
Ascaria nods, and agrees with delaying, returning his thoughts tot the group, "Yes, let's wait to check out the church. Chances are the evil folks are watching it, and I don't want to get into trouble before the banquet. After is fine." he grins.
"So we have a few days yet to kill. Seems like it's taking forever for this banquet to arrive. What do folks want to do next?"
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" For an Azlanti speaker both words sound same. How many languages can you speak? You never misjudge close words I guess "
"কোথাও লাইন বরাবর, আমি এই কুড়ান।
'আপনার আত্মার জন্য লাইভ, এখন প্রতিরোধ করুন
হ্যাঁ, যুদ্ধ করতে নির্বাচন করুন
যদিও এটি একটি নিখুঁত দিন হতে এতদূর মনে হয়
আপনার হাত তুলে নিন, এবং আপনার গর্ব মুক্তি'
এই এবং সাধারণ। আমি নিশ্চিত, যদিও আমি উভয় অনেক শব্দ ভুল। বিশেষ করে এই এক।"
'Live for your soul, resist now
Yes, choose to fight
Although it seems so far to be a perfect day
Lift up your hands, and redeem your pride'
This and Common. I'm sure I misjudge many words in both, though. Especially this one."
Mortimer pulls out a small scrollpad upon which he has scribbled some notes with charcoal he has stolen borrowed from Ascaria. He begins telepathically reading it to everyone.
Moonday Duds and Suds
Toilday B'kruss and his pidgeon friend. Competing in the Arena (17)?
Wealday Great Project Thing
Oathday Up or Down?
Fireday Party
Well, it looks like tomorrow part of our day will be spent getting new clothes for the party. Maybe we can hang out at the Deluxury and see if we can discover other people who might be attending the party - like dignitaries besides Zeech who are seeking Lashonna's hand in marriage. That way Eidi will know what he's up against. Mortimer winks at Eidi, Not that any of those other guys stand a chance against Eidi...
Let's see then, Mortimer mutters silently at everyone. Mabye we can see if there's a game or something at the Arena. Maybe that B'kruss pigeon guy and his pigeons will be participating in some 'riding' competition. We should definitely see what's going on at the Arena this week.
Well, we've seen the Great Project Thing, so I guess we can cross that off. That leaves two days. I've been wondering, though -- If we can't snoop around the rooftops, maybe we can snoop around all the little cave passages under this city? Can we hide from the 'angels' at all while we look around? Would that be of interest to anyone?
Or, we could just see what we can find out around the Deluxury and Arena, and play it by ear.
Mortimer rubs his 6 o'clock beard.
"Coarse."
"Eh, Ascaria, Have you noticed a barber in your travels around town? We could probably all use a shave. Well, maybe not Sol."
Yes to delaying the dusty church until after the fancyness.
Ascaria marvels at Mort’s use of language, ”I didn’t know you knew Auran. That’s so cool.” he turns to the others, ”Does anyone else know Auran? We could use that as a secret language, it’s not a common tongue by any means.” He seems excited at the prospect.
He listens with his mind to Mort’s suggestions for the upcoming days and nods, ”That all sounds good. As long as we keep our noses clean for the week I’m happy. And the caves sound really interesting.”
When Eri suggests a formal shave, ”To get real close? People do that?” He has a hard time envisioning someone shaving him…
Eidi bends after Mortimer's Auran poetry "You Sir, have impressed me now. I do have to admit I am by no way knowledgeable of the Auran language"
"Oh! I guess I can do a break on my crafting and magical study to have a look on those Lashonna's competitors, certainly Sir Mortimer" and then soothing his bearded chin "Mmm... I can use a shave, I would give you that Eri. Do you propose a new styling?"
Solrisa looks from Mort to Eidi then back to Mort, a silly smile on her face because she didn't understand what was being said.
"Oh no, I don't speak Auran. I could speak dwarven, probably, and elven, of course, that's such a pretty language except when Rae used to speak it. Then it sounded a lot like two rocks dropping off a cliff, but I understood and that's all that matters, right?"
Solrisa would visit the barber as she can't remember the last time she had her hair cut (it was probably yanked out by Rae during a fight), and a trim might be nice.
When Eri suggests a formal shave, ”To get real close? People do that?” He has a hard time envisioning someone shaving him…
"Well sure, Canary!" Mortimer. "You don't want people thinking that you just crawled out from under a rock, or ... " Mortimer recalls the stench of sulfur exuding from the Asmodean Temples one door, "... a volcano or something... Besides, a fresh trim along the edges can be really refreshing."
""Oh! I guess I can do a break on my crafting and magical study to have a look on those Lashonna's competitors, certainly Sir Mortimer" and then soothing his bearded chin "Mmm... I can use a shave, I would give you that Eri. Do you propose a new styling?"
Mortimer bows to Eidi, then runs his hand through his overgrown locks, getting stuck midway through in tangles. Yes, there was a 'Salon Mort' at one time, but they poofed out my hair and it made me all hot, smelly and uncomfortable.
"Just make sure you're comfortable with the look you choose. You need to stay confident, right?"
He smiles in an attempt to conceal his own insecurity. What the Hells am I going to do?
The Outcasts take their leave from the Church of Asmodeus. The Church of Blessed Deliverance sits slumped in the shadows of the surrounding buildings, the stained glass windows partially melted, the exterior charred as from a great fire. As several of the group say, it's going nowhere, and should still be waiting for a visit after the Banquet for Zeech...
Sunday evening brings an interesting change of pace in Alhaster. The Arena becomes a great pull for hundreds of citizens, for what must be the weekly fights presented as entertainment for rich and poor alike. Your liquor-tinged sponge of information gathering, Ascaria, is able to ascertain that the Arena is run by an ex-commander of Zeech's private guard, a one-eyed orc named Mandubulis. This ex-fighter tirelessly stocks the arenas with sport and battle, providing Alhaster a much-needed distraction from the hard life led by its residents.
A healthy contingent of blessed angels circles the Arena, at times landing to watch over the spectacle from the highest points of the structure, at other times surveying the streets leading away from the Arena.
...
Moonday arrives without incident. Returning to the Market, your respective tailors can be found with ease, though it takes them a little over half an hour to make the final adjustments for your Banquet outfits. Maggie helps Eoin with a vantage on Mortimer's backside, as he requires real-time feedback as he finishes the front pleats. Solrisa's bright blues and Ascaria's small frame are easily enough adjusted, which affords Maggie some time to assist Piers with Eri's and Eidi's respective ensembles. For those of you who are forced to wait while others are attended, there is freshly-brewed kahve on a cart that serves both tents.
Departing the tailor tents, a light flutter of paper reaches your ears, drawing your attention to several small leaflets scattered about the square.
...
Solrisa enjoys walking along the Market, looking at wonders and oohing and clapping when she sees something she likes (which is somewhat often). Her smile is everywhere as she walks, stopping to look more closely into a fabric or piece of art. She won’t buy anything (her life doesn’t allow too many places to hang art), but she will appreciate what she can.
Seeing and hearing the leaflets, she goes to see what they are all about. She reads one of them aloud to anyone who might want to know.
Eidi let's the time slowly pass while he spends his time crafting his belt improvements and studying his spellbook looking for old forgotten magic.
The half-elf does though make a pause to attend the Arena for a couple of hours, where he contemplates how the city entertains itself. He does pay attention to the one-eyed orc and his strange mouth.
Eidi also attends the market, and once the tailors are done, he walks back stopping with Solrisa to examine the leaflets "What is it Solrisa? Invitations to the festival?"
Ascaria, remembering Mort's suggestion, will spend some of the time poking around to see who else is expected to come to the event. He's trying to find out if there are any notables they should learn about beforehand, but mostly just digging for gossip.
A couple rolls just in case...
He otherwise spends his time in relative comfort, trying to avoid the flying fiends and those on the ground too.
Mortimer looks over Solrisa's shoulder at the flutter paper .
~~~
Mortimer soon grows bored of the Arena offerings (It's everything I thought a pigeon fight would be...), then after dropping Eidi off to craft, he wanders the market ever in search of that elusive something.
Eri lays low as well. He will, however, find a couple of different bars to sit at the end of and get a little loose and ponder the locals.
Solrisa spends a small moment procuring one of the leaflets, crafted of lightweight pulp and pressed with thin-inked lettering. They drift on the wind with ease, and your perceptive eyes can spy several of them traveling through the coastal windy streets of Alhaster. It would be maddening to have to chase them all down...
The maiden reads the leaflet aloud. It makes its own pronouncements, regarding several citizens executed within the last week. It lists sixteen names and their respective sentences. The author conveys the deep injustice of the executions for the crimes, either real or ginned up.
Following the death list, Solrisa peruses new taxes leveled against businesses to support the continuing construction of the Great Project, and the businesses that are likely to close under the strain.
The last section of the leaflet is a list of names of missing individuals, young and old alike. The author pleads for peer-to-peer witnessing, as word will eventually reach the right ears. It extols the practice of 'warning' your fellow citizens not to speak on such things that would offend the Prince, allowing the examples that follow to be the crude code of conveyance.
This piece of thin paper reminds you of a similar piece you held in your very hands, back in Magepoint. Your maiden has now acquired a very recent copy of a Sinchaser Report.
...
The subsequent days leading to Fireday, and the Anniversary Banquet, pass without event.
For your inquiries, you learn of several guests due to attend the Banquet:
B'kruss, your new friend, has secured an invitation, as Commander of the Knights of Redhand.
Hoff, a surly dwarven fighter, has been loose with his tongue about town, so it is known that he thinks he's invited to the Banquet.
Lord Malaven Kilraven, Captain of the West Border Watch has been requested to attend. The man is known to be dutiful, so will likely obey the summons to the event.
Professor Montague Marat, a kindly odd chap who happens to be a former associate of Zalamandra, proprietress of the Emporium of Diamond Lake. This makes sense, as Shag Solomon will be his honored guest.
Lastly, a one Mariss Quemp, retired barbarian who is much beloved by the nobles for his violent stories and ribald jokes.
Fireday breaks on a serene sunrise, and clear skies abound.
So begins your preparations for the Anniversary Banquet, and the Carriage that will come to collect you two hours before the festivities are due to start within the Palace.
How do you spend your morning and afternoon?
Eidi studies the leaflets with worrisome "Mmm... this does not foresee anything good for the city my friends. What shall we do? We have a greater mission. I would not like to lose the great battle of the worms for mingling ourselves in local politics"
-------------------
The half-elf expends the day preparing the group chest with all the required items and magic. He does prepare spells carefully and he finally fills very weird when he looks how the new clothing for the party fits himself "Most probably I will hit this clothes somewhere and they will be soon ruined. This is just so unpractical!"
HP = 93/93 +?? temp
Hero Points = 6
Equipped = None
Conditions = Hero’s Feast (6/12h), Magic Vestment (+3, 6/15h), Status (6/15h, Eidi, Eri, Mort, Sol), Wind Walk (6/15h)
Life Link (14)(100’) = Eidi, Eri, Mort, Sol
Channel Energy (11/11)(9/9) (DC: 27)(Avoid 8, 35’r, 1/1 swift) (8d6+1+2d6 phylactery)
Amiable Blunder (1/1 if Diplomacy failed by >5, re-roll to avoid worsening attitude)
Rod of Extend Spell (3/3 through 6th lvl)
Vest of Surgery (1/1 Heal DC 20 to heal 1d4 ability damage in 1h)
Spellguard Bracers (3/3 Roll concentration twice and take the best result)
Mnemonic Vestment (1/1 Cast spell from a scroll)
Tankard (1/1 Remove Fear), (1/1 Heroism (30min)), (1/1 unbinding to DC 25)
Physician’s Spectacles (1/1 Delay Poison)(Constant: Detect Poison, Diagnose Disease)
Expeditious (3/3 swift +10’ movement)
Melee Attack: BAB +10/+5, Size +1 Damage: +0
Ranged Attack: BAB +10/+5, Dex +1, Size +1 Damage: +0
Spells (Caster Level 15, Concentration +25)
Once per Day: Arcane Mark, Comprehend Languages, Message, Read Magic
Zero (18): Create Water, Detect Magic, Detect Poison, Guidance, Light, Mending, Purify Food and Drink, Spark, Stabilize
First (19): (8/8) Cure Light Wounds, Diagnose Disease, Endure Elements, Enhance Water, Liberating Command, Obscuring Mist, Remove Fear
Second (20): (7/8) Burst of Radiance, Cure Moderate Wounds, Lesser Restoration, Light Prison, Pilfering Hand, Protection from Evil Communal, Status
Third (21): (5/8) Cure Serious Wounds, Dispel Magic, Invisibility Purge, Magic Vestments, Neutralize Poison, Prayer, Speak with Dead*
Fourth (22): (8/8) Blessings of Fervor, Brightest Light, Cure Critical Wounds, Protection from Energy Communal, Restoration, Speak with Haunt*, Terrible Remorse
Fifth (23): (7/7) Air Walk Communal, Breath of Life, Burst of Glory, Cleanse, Cure Light Wounds Mass, Plane Shift
Sixth (24): (6/7) Chains of Light, Cure Moderate Wounds Mass, Heal, Heroes’ Feast, Wind Walk
Seventh (25): (5/5) Cure Serious Wounds Mass, Greater Restoration, Holy Word, Particulate Form
* Caster Level +2
- - -
”Ahh, that’s a Sinchaser Report. I saw one in Magepoint when we were researching stuff. Nasty stuff.” He agrees with Eidi. ”Let us focus on our task at hand, but by Cayden, we shall come back when this is through and cleanse this town!” His face is somewhat red with anger, but it subsides though the frown lingers a while…
As the days go by, Ascaria occasionally comes up with a new name or two - attendees at the big party. All told, he learns the following.
- B’kruss, our new friend, has secured an invitation, as Commander of the Knights of Redhand.
- Hoff, a surly dwarven fighter, has been loose with his tongue about town, so it is known that he thinks he's invited to the Banquet.
- Lord Malaven Kilraven, Captain of the West Border Watch has been requested to attend. The man is known to be dutiful, so will likely obey the summons to the event.
- Professor Montague Marat, a kindly odd chap who happens to be a former associate of Zalamandra, proprietress of the Emporium of Diamond Lake. This makes sense, as Shag Solomon will be his honored guest.
- Lastly, a one Mariss Quemp, retired barbarian who is much beloved by the nobles for his violent stories and ribald jokes.
”Sounds like a lot of different people are going. Surely they can’t all be evil… right? We must stay focused, of course.”
As Zeech’s banquet is upon them, he prepares the day as usual, providing a variety of spells, but he’ll cast them a little later in the day (say noon), to extend their durations well past the party.
He ensorcels the shields of the party (Magic Vestment ). He'll then watch over his friends (Status ) and refresh everyones Life Link. Further, he casts another round of Wind Walk in case they need to escape. He’ll then relax and nap that afternoon, readying himself for the evening to come.
Just before they leave for the party, an eager and energetic Ascaria will refresh everyone’s Life Link, check their status and, grinning, suggest, ”Let’s have some fun tonight!”
"Ahh, that’s a Sinchaser Report."
Mortimer scratches his head. "A what? You mean, among other things -- someone is in charge of creating manuals about how you should conduct yourself in a given city?" Mortimer shakes his head. Why should there even be a need for that?
"Mmm... this does not foresee anything good for the city my friends. What shall we do? We have a greater mission. I would not like to lose the great battle of the worms for mingling ourselves in local politics"
"Let us focus on our task at hand, but by Cayden, we shall come back when this is through and cleanse this town!"
Mortimer very determinedly states in a whisper/message or preferably inside the groups' heads: "We stay on course. We get this ridiculous shindig thing over with, then we see what we can find at the abandoned church. Something tells me that the Cult, the worms and this place are closely connected -- so no matter what we do we'll end up politically involved."
Mortimer, pleased with the fit of his own new outfit, observes Eidi fretting over his.
"Isn't there a spell for fixing that if it gets messed up?"
"Sounds like a lot of different people are going. Surely they can’t all be evil… right? We must stay focused, of course."
"So, I -- what do you think? From what Ascaria found --" he pauses to gather his thoughts.
"B'kruss isn't even in the running, so you don't have to worry about him", and it's not clear Hoff has an invite, but even if he does he won't stand a chance up against you..."
Mortimer smooths his clean shaven chin. I wonder if I could someday sport a beard as clean and neat as Eidi's and look at all as dignified as him...
"No, your greatest competition is probably Lord Malaven Kilraven or Professor Montague Marat. Malaven may not be as keen on being there though, so I'd worry most about Montague, were I you."
Mortimer strokes his non-beard some more. "Say -- Eidi... I'm really nervous about this Party thing -- I mean -- about doing something stupid and getting us all in trouble. I mean -- what should I do? Just keep my hands in my pockets all the time?! What if I have to shake hands?! I'm fine not wearing the goggles and the Headband of the Lizardhood," he says, placing both into the chest. "But what about this fancy headband?!" he asks, pointing to the Diadem of Wisdom/Circlet of Persuasion upon his head. "There's no way I'm taking it off... but is it too much? Should I cover it with something more... conventional?"
He falls silent for a minute -- or more likely 20 seconds, then looks away. "I'd just stay close to you to stay out of trouble, but I don't want to ruin your chances with the Lady Lashonna. I'm just so worried about messing up."
Mortimer places his Headband of the Lizardhood, his Shirt of Immolation and Smoked Goggles along with his weapons and most of his armor into the chest Eidi prepared, keeping his mithril chain on under his new outfit. He covers the Diadem of Wisdom/Circlet of Persuasion over with a generic golden headband he's picked up from the market -- one to match his golden bracers. He dons some cufflinks garnished with tiny sapphire gems that compliment his eyes.
He turns to the group, holds out his arms in a shrug and asks, "Too much?"
~~~
"Let’s have some fun tonight!"
Mortimer looks gloomily at the Carriage, tucking his white gloved hands into his pockets.
"Yah, sure..." he mutters, unconvinced.
”We shall come back when this is through and cleanse this town!”
Sense Motive
”Oh Ascaria, I’m not sure I want to be in charge of cleaning the streets here. But I’m not alone in that, my sister...do you remember Rae? She and I are twins, and she used to hate cleaning too. She would never clean her side of the room, much less the kitchen. Sometimes she would make a deal where I got to clean her side of the room if I let her sleep while I did it! It wasn’t the best deal, but sometimes she wouldn’t yell at me for cleaning too loudly...so that was okay. But my point is that I’m not sure I want to come back here and clean the streets or wash the buildings or anything like that. I mean, we have buildings to wash back at home! Am I right, Mort?” Solrisa spins to draw Mort into her side, not wanting to be responsible for cleaning this town, or any town for that matter.
* * *
Solrisa trails after the party, a smile on her face. She is enjoying the quiet of the town, being with her friends, and the time to explore and see the sights of the City. She wouldn’t want to live here, but visiting still seems new and fresh. So..she smiles and enjoys things.
On the day of the banquet, Solrisa takes a thorough bath, getting her hair extra clean, and then spending a long while both drying and brushing her hair until its sparkles. Her armor, though glamoured, is also polished until it shines.
She changes her armor to seem to be like a beautiful royal blue dress (to match her nice hairpin). Her long blonde hair is neatly braided, and she just might be as well dressed as she’s ever been.
He turns to the group, holds out his arms in a shrug and asks, "Too much?"
"No, it looks good. We're all looking a little like peacocks." he laughs.
He turns to Sol, "No, I mean we'll come back and knock off all this evil. Kill 'em, or convert them. Show them the error of their ways at least."
Later, he dutifully puts his dagger and sling in Eidi's magic box. Not for the first time, he envies Mort his lethal hands. I should learn how to do that someday, he thinks. Just in case.
With that, he's ready, and even eager, for the party!
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Trumpets sound across the city, every drum, horn, and bell in every place of worship call out, likely by instruction, to announce that the Day of Great Rejoicing has arrived.
The streets throng with happy, smiling faces, the locals cheer and rejoice, babies are held aloft and patriotic songs about the divine mercy of Zeech are sung at every corner.
Those who listen closely or peer into the eyes of the joyful populace can see the unmistakable traces of sadness and despair. Prince Zeech has ruled Alhaster through two decades of oppression and debauchery, and to most of the city’s citizens, this festival is little more than a celebration of two more to come.
Word quickly spreads through the Angry Rifter that your group has secured invitations to the Banquet, which means that any appearance in the common room, or about the front of the Tavern garners lavish attention by citizens of the city, as well as guests of the establishment. Gawkers, all of them, but none of them has the temerity to inquire as to how you got so lucky as to attend. The attention serves them well enough, as the hour for your Carriage to arrive and retrieve you.
When it arrives, promptly at two hours before sunset, the carriage is almost shocking in its decadence— a gold-plated vehicle of incredible size and garish ornateness waits for the invitees to board. A group of four trolls serve as “horses” for this ostentatious monstrosity, each dressed in ill-fitting suits designed to call out their hideous countenances all the more. The carriage itself is driven by a lanky, wide-mouthed man with black robes and a tall black top hat. A sizable crowd gathers and gawks as you board.
The carriage interior is incredibly sumptuous. The leather seats are padded with down and gold lanterns burn pleasantly-scented oil. A tray contains several crystal decanters of wine and silver salvers of sweet meats . The driver never speaks, and once the Outcasts are aboard takes them directly to Zeech’s Palace.
Your ride down the Toilway is deliberately slow. Multiple citizens throw cut flowers and ring bells to acknowledge your passing. Many call out to you to carry messages of praise to the Prince, and, of course, to enjoy yourselves in His presence!
The red stone wall that surrounds the Palace supports dozens of statues, all of which are representations of the Prince, of course, in various stances and poses. Through the windows of your Carriage, you begin to take in the grounds, where several gardens welcome leisurely walks outside of the main building.
The Carriage eventually comes to a stop, and the door is opened for you to disembark.
Welcome to Zeech's Palace.
Solrisa puts her best blade into her glove of storing. She is giddy for the day that they had all be waiting for, and finally getting to meet the Lady who had been so elusive.
She delights in all the fance and pomp and circumstance, something that is so unusual to her. She's never had a lot of luxury in her life, and coniders her everyday nice armor to be the fine clothing and comfort. But today is a special day and she's all smiles (above and in addition to all her usual smiles).
She is bright and happy and celebrative, making the day hers and not worrying about the plight or the evil or the badness, but living to experience this party as it should be experienced.
She's ready to go. And she steps out of the Carriage first so excited is she.
"Let's party!" Sol squees with delight.
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Eidi engages with Mortimer's conversation with a wide smile "Ah! Have you been thinking on them too? I have already been preparing some useful topics to bring up. You have made very good points. I think Lashona will be most impressed by the Professor's conversation too. But who knows, she might be more of the likes of the barbarian..." the half-elf pads Mortimer's back "That's fine. Variety is good. Each of us has our own strong points. You don't have to worry. Just be my wingman"
Eidi follows Mortimer's example and places his backpack and bandoliers full of scrolls into the chest. He does so with his dagger, wands and rods, but he keeps his staff with him, as well as his rings, belt and other jewels that might impress the audience.
The elder eyes out the trolls before jumping into the carriage with some effort "You will never get an injured horse with one of those!" As they advance through the streets Eidi smiles to everybody around and happily waves with a hand. But when the Palace comes to a sight, he does become serious and remains silent looking broadly to recognize the overall distribution and security of the place.
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Am I right, Mort?" Solrisa spins to draw Mort into her side, not wanting to be responsible for cleaning this town, or any town for that matter.
"Uh, Yes. I mean, no! It's what Ascaria said, and no amount of soap will have any affect on evil."
~~~
The streets throng with happy, smiling faces, the locals cheer and rejoice, babies are held aloft and patriotic songs about the divine mercy of Zeech are sung at every corner.
"These people are miserable! They're only doing this for show, possibly out of fear!" Mortimer whispers through message or some other magical means. "Zeech is the worse thing that's ever happened to them, and they're not looking forward to two more years of him!"
~~~
~~~
Having been more or less gawked at his entire life for other reasons, Mortimer barely notices the attention the group has garnered in the Angry Rifter. He buys a round of drinks for any of his companions who are interested, and goes about his normal business.
"O.K. Gang, here's our cheese shopping list. Is anything missing?"
~~
Donned in his new duds, golden bracers (having decided that the sapphire cuff links were too much) and matching (facade) diadem, Mortimer is indeed shocked when the ostentatious monstrosity of a carriage arrives. His mind reels at the garish ornateness. He stares helplessly at the 'horses' in their ill fitting suits. He finds that he is subconsciously backing up back into the Angry Rifter as he tries not to regurgitate his latest meal. Oaaah.
He gulps. "We could just walk there, couldn't we?"
Nonetheless, he follows the others.
Bearing an enormous but tastefully wrapped gift box, Mortimer discovers that he needs to stow it in the Carriage's luggage partition, since it is too large to fit in the main cabin with the rest of the party.
He crams his massive frame into the doorway then falls heavily and awkwardly onto the down filled leather seats. He gestures with his head toward the driver. "Hey Ascaria, what do you think of that hat?"
His senses assaulted by the variety of scents, tries not to sneeze on the silver salvers of sweet meats.
He tries to duck out of sight as the carriage carries them down the Toilway toward the Palace of Zeech, but quickly finds it impossible given his size. He listens specifically to see if anyone calls him or the others out by name.
When the door is finally reopened, Mortimer pries himself out of the carriage as gracefully as possible, then retrieves his enormous gift and stands close to Eidi waiting for further instructions.
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Ascaria enjoys the creature comforts. All his time in the mines was just to make his time before the fire with his feet up all that more enjoyable. He knows they’re headed into danger, and he’s made promises he might not be able to keep, but the coach, the clothes, everything. It’s just so lovely.
He moves about the carriage restlessly going from window to window to check stuff out. He avoids the liquor - not wanting to cloud his mind overmuch so early in the evening. There will be lots of time for that later. He waves at the gawkers, and enjoys life with them as he seems to glow from the excitement.
When Mort points out that many of the so-called revelers are in fact suffering, Ascaria isn’t that surprised. ”Goes to show you that the populous isn’t evil though, which is a good thing. We’re definitely coming back here to do right by these folks.” He continues to wave and smile, knowing that even in suffering, a smile warmed the heart.
He gestures with his head toward the driver. ”Hey Ascaria, what do you think of that hat?”
”Yeah, I could totally fit inside that guys hat, ride the whole way, and no one would be the wiser! That is some hat!” Ascaria agrees happily.
As the carriage comes to a stop and the doors are opened, he looks to the others before scrambling out and to the ground, ”Now remember to be on your best behavior. We promised!”
He takes out his rather smaller gift, though no less expensive in his eyes, and makes his way to the entrance.
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Eri puts his weapons in his quivers and puts them in Bidi’s chest. He does his best to add all the fancy bits in the right order consulting Ascaria when he thinks he’s done and Solrisa when Ascaria clears him for takeoff.
Eri cringes as the carriage tarries, willing it to go faster.
"These people are miserable! They're only doing this for show, possibly out of fear!”
I know a little about what that is.
”Yikes, that is a big fear, a big evil. If we could pop that bubble maybe the town can do the rest.”
”Now remember to be on your best behavior. We promised!”
That’s my least favorite behavior.
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The troll trolley departs, leaving you to stand in front of Zeech's Palace, and the Palace Grounds. The Palace itself is a hodge podge of various styles, with new additions, some fully, others not so fully constructed. The Grounds are replete with various smaller walking garden trails, scattered about and beyond your current location. What strikes you is the stretch of painfully, well-manicured lawn that stretches up to the edge of the cliffside which overlooks the Bay. This can be none other than the Vertiginous Terrace mentioned in your Invitations.
From your decoaching, you are the lowest, and likely last of the guests to arrive. By lowest, quite literally, as the other guests have taken to the set of stairs leading to the Palace. It is here you are to meet and mingle with the others.
And so many! Your eyes begin to separate the wheat from the chaff. There are many Palace Guards about, as well as attendants who move about the Grounds, tending to every little thing. While the Guards are quite stoic and still in their positions, the servants are deliberate and quiet in their tasks. This leaves the Guests to draw your attentions, as the most colorful and animated of them all. You begin to mark your fellow Invitees by their positions about the central fountain, like the hands of a clock.
First, at 9 O'Clock, stands a lone individual. An ironhaired, weather-beaten man with a hook instead of a right hand, he carries himself with an air of pride.
Approaching the 11 O'Clock position, you are treated to your old friends. The hobgoblins B'kruss and V'russ stand together, sipping champagne and sizing up a portly dwarf, rosy nose and dressed in browns and reds. The dwarf jabs B'kruss with a fat fingers in routine intervals to dot his conversational points.
Standing in small finery at the 12 O'Clock position behind the fountain are both a gnome gentleman and halfling lass. Although slightly overweight and a little nervous looking, the halfling remains rather cute in appearance. She’s got light brown hair, wears an amulet made of snake scales and teeth, and dresses in a black cloak and fine noble’s clothes in dark shades of blue and green. The gnome sports a beautiful, long handlebar moustache, and his garments are vibrant in the setting sun's light.
Just past 1 O'Clock stands another gaggle of Invitees, currently pulling from a meat board presented by a Servant. More friends! Your familiar feline fellow Shag Solomon and his companion Montague Marat are entertaining a new face. The woman is an exotic and mysterious human in her late fifties with a thin face that has aged well. She wears her shocking red hair in braids woven around an elaborate headdress. Her clothes are rich and royal, and she wears too much jewelry. Her expression is mischievous and sneaky, a young grandmother who’s plotting the best way to sneak some candy to a grandchild.
Rounding out the clock at 3 stands two men, one of which is embracing a Palace Servant. The poor thing looks over her shoulder when she can, while the half-orc continues to nuzzle her neck. As half-orcs go, he’s actually rather handsome, with his orc heritage almost unnoticable. Well-groomed and dressed in the finest clothing, his towering frame still seems as if it would be more at home in a battle than at a party. The more polite gentleman acquiescing to the assault is a dark-skinned man with a small neat goatee. He is dressed in flamboyant and very expensive robes. Every so often, he leans forward in a futile attempt to free the girl.
Most of the Invitees turn to witness your decoaching, then rejoin their conversations. The atmosphere is welcoming you to acclimatize...
Mortimer takes in the clock face scene, and focusing on something -- he grunts.
"Excuse me a minute," he states to his companions -- mostly Eidi -- and bearing his enormous gift purposefully, he heads up the stairs towards three o'clock.
"Excuse me," he says again -- this time to the Palace Servant, shifting the gift box awkwardly in his embrace. "Can I trouble you to show me where I might set this aside?" he asks.
He casts his eyes about as much as he can around the slightly larger than 1 cubic meter box, shifting his stance for better views all the while struggling to not to clock the half orc in the head with it in the process. "There doesn't seem to be a place to set down the gifts for Lord Zeech out here," he pleads.
"... Wow. This place is big..." he mutters looking around, impressed.
Solrisa coos and squees and smiles as she looks at all the people, the finery, and the pomp. Oh man, she loves the pomp. She hasn’t had much pomp in her life, and this is good pomp.
”Mort, look! A halfling!” Solrisa points to the obvious halfling. ”Oh Mort! Look at that gnome!” Solrisa points at anyone she recognizes and to whomever happens to be nearby.
Given time to recover her senses from the spectacle, she eventually bounds over to ...Shag!
”Shag! There you are! Remember me? I’m Solrisa!” Solrisa greets and smiles a big smile. ”Who are your friends?” Solrisa offers a gloved hand to shake or kiss or fist bump as is appropriate.
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Ascaria too eyes the half-orc and his too-friendly nature. He’s sure this is exactly the sort of thing they should ignore or they’ll get into trouble, but he cannot, and is relieved when Mort heads over to help. He hesitates on the stairs, slowly climbing them while watching the scene with Mort play out. He fingers, without thinking, the small two-handled, shot-sized, flagon hanging from a fine silver chain around his neck - ready to cast supporting spells as needed…
If all seems well enough, he’ll drift over to the other short-folk. He introduces himself simply as Ascaria, and admires the gnome's mustache, ”That is an impressive lip ferret there sir! I must admit, I have trouble growing the chin-hairs, let alone anything proper below my nose.”
He bows to the halfling, ”Ma’am.”
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Eidi follows up Mortimer rather slowly. Stepping one by one and with great care all the stairs while leaning over his staff "Oh, each of these stairs is like a torment itself"
The half-elf reaches the first group with Mortimer with a wide smile letting the servant to explain about the gifts. The elder quickly opens up conversation with the man holding the woman trying to cause an impression "One would think all those mages and wizards would create a self levitating cabin to enter a rich palace like this, isn't it?"
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"Excuse me, can I trouble you to show me where I might set this aside? There doesn't seem to be a place to set down the gifts for Lord Zeech out here."
The Servant looks to the giant uncomfortably, as she maintains her politeness in the face of the half-orc's embrace, while the half-orc chortles a welcome. "Looks like someone's a little eager to impress our Prince. Overcompensate much, big man? You'll find none of the others struggling to bear their gifts." With the half-orc's observation, you find him to be quite right, as the other guests have their own gifts of various shapes and sizes, different wrappings. Some in small boxes, others tucked under arms, freeing their hands to pull at the hors d'oeuvres. None of them as large as Mortimer's cubic meter.
"Careful now. If you're tired, you should set it down." The half-orc does his best to avoid being bumped. He goes so far as to 'help' the servant by ushering her back a little, holding her more snugly.
"One would think all those mages and wizards would create a self levitating cabin to enter a rich palace like this, isn't it?"
Both the half-orc and the gentleman give a polite laugh to the elder half-elf. The gentleman speaks next. "Where are our manners, Mariss?" His words carry a not-subtle double entendre. "My name is Vulras, Captain of The Lammergeier. This is Mariss Quemp, retired barbarian on the verge of his very own reformation." The Captain extends a hand, and gives Eidi a firm handshake. This, in turn, prompts Mariss to extend a hand of his own, so enjoining are Eidi's words. This, in turn, gives the Servant the wiggle room she requires to quietly excuse herself, and return to her flock. Mariss snorts, his gaze drifting from the Servant, to Solrisa, then back to Eidi and Mortimer.
"Vulras isn't wrong. I am Mariss. Pleased to meet you. Sorry, I didn't get your names. I hope they're worth remembering. Your names, that is."
...
"Shag! There you are! Remember me? I’m Solrisa! Who are your friends?”
The shaggy man turns to welcome the new voice into the conversation at hand, and appears delighted to see a familiar face! "Solrisa of the Lake of Diamonds! How wonderful you'll be joining us tonight! You are wonderfully attired, too. Please, make the acquaintance of Professor Montague Marat, long time friend, some times friction, he is never a dull companion." At the prompting the pointed hat fellow moves forward to take Solrisa's hand, and pats it between his two, very soft palms. Shag continues with the introductions. "And here we have the Lady Mahuudril, patron of Alhaster. We were just getting acquainted ourselves." Shag bows slightly, and Mahuudril acknowledges him with a smile-nod.
Shag puts a hand on Solrisa's shoulder. "This young lady is quite remarkable. She's seen Egorian through to its bowels, and emerged a Gauntlet champion. Not only that, she's slain a black dragon plaguing our home territory. Quite impressive." Montague and Mahuudril both look suitably impressed, and wait to hear what words will come in response to such glowing praise.
...
"That is an impressive lip ferret there sir! I must admit, I have trouble growing the chin-hairs, let alone anything proper below my nose."
He bows to the halfling, ”Ma’am.”
The halfling lady greets Ascaria's bow with a curtsy, allowing the gnome to speak first. The colorful chap wastes no time in reply. "It's been growing for ages! For a time, I threatened its very existence, straight razor pressed against its very roots! But I was never so callous as to push the matter, and it has responded to routine cleaning and waxing! And now, I almost forget it's under my very nose, so tucked under it is! The name of the handlebar's owner is Toris." The gnome extends a hand in greeting, perhaps as the go-between for Ascaria and moustache.
"Charmed." The halfling lady joins in the greeting with a small hand of her own. "My name is Miszen, of the Mitchwillow merchants. Are you all some sort of company? You all arrived together, whereas each of us were born here separately. Strength in numbers, I suppose?"
The Servant recently detained by Mariss arrives at the small-person cluster, where she proceeds to take drink orders.
...
Across the fountain's landing, the hobgoblins gesture occasionally in the direction of the Outcasts, and laugh. This is sometimes accompanied by the dwarf's shared laughter, while at other times, it is not.
B'kruss is not shy about voicing his contempt of the new arrivals. Something about cowardice, and failure to accept a challenge to ride. Something about offense at how foreigners are welcome at the event...
There is still time before the evening's festivities begin for conversation among the gathered.
Eidi responds to the handshakes with vigor "I am Eidi. An old retired knight from a so ancient order it would sound pedantic to mention" the half-elf smiles at both men and asks them "Oh! A barbarian come to civilization? Are you finding the amusements of the city of your interest Sir Mariss?" and to the other one "Excuse me, we just recently came by the region, I hope not to offend you by asking what the Lammergeier is?"
”You almost forget!! …” Ascaria chokes back a laugh, ”But sir! It is too impressive to forget. Well met indeed, my name is Ascaria, and as you surmised m’lady, we are a group. We are the Champions of the Gauntlet of Asmodeus.” he grins and gestures to his belt. ”It was quite a battle,” he looks at the pair, ”But a gory one, so I’ll pull my own chain and brag some other time. Perhaps after a few flagons have passed my lips.” he laughs again easily.
”But what brings you two together? I myself was attracted to your mustache, and so perhaps were you Lady Miszen. Is that how you met?”
Though he’s enjoying himself, a part of his attention is on Mort, and the breakup. All seems to be going well, and so he relaxes a bit, but he still tries to split his focus, without offending his current companions.
(to hide the fact he’s only half listening)
"This young lady is quite remarkable. She's seen Egorian through to its bowels, and emerged a Gauntlet champion. Not only that, she's slain a black dragon plaguing our home territory. Quite impressive."
Solrisa smiles.
Solrisa blushes.Solrisa pfpshaws.
"Oh yeah, that was so much fun!" she finally admits, while shaking hands with Montague and Mahuudril. "We kilt many bad people and that mean ol' black dragon needed to die, so we kilt it good. I helped kill it dead." Solrisa squees happily and claps as she tells her story.
"Now, Mr. Montague and Ms. Mahuudril, don't we have such lovely weather! And these decorations..." Solrisa begins to make the most appropriate and banal small talk that anyone can imagine, trying not only to have a good time, but make sure her new best friends are having a good time as well.
"Oh, it's no struggle to bear a great gift fitting the stature of a great prince such as Zeech," Mortimer says, as the servant girl wiggles free. Hefting the enormous gift to and fro, he lurches most gracefully to step between Mariss and Vulras and to position himself between them and the flock of servants.
He then grasps the gift box by its bow and easily tucks it under his arm to block their view of Solrisa.
With his free hand he offers it to Vulras, "Mortimer Smith, Smith of Diamond Lake. 'Lammergeier' -- is that a seafaring vessel by any chance?" he asks, keenly interested. He then offers his hand to Mariss. "Retired, huh? Reformation? That sounds rough."
If either Vulras, Captain of The Lammergeier or Mariss Quemp Past his Prime are observant at all, they'll notice Moritmer has not even broken out in a sweat.
Mortimer cocks one eyebrow at the venerable Eidi in recognition and disdain as hobgoblin laughter wafts across the courtyard, then redirects his attention toward his present company.
"Oh! A barbarian come to civilization? Are you finding the amusements of the city of your interest, Sir Mariss?"
The half-orc shadow boxes with Mortimer's box, his head snaking for various opportunistic vantages, while answering the half-elf. "Oh, quim is quim- ou can find it in any city, you just have to open your nares. What I find interesting in Alhaster is the people attempting to look noble in backwaters of the borderlands. Very amusing, to see who gets to keep their head, and who loses theirs." Mariss finishes his answer to Eidi, while looking serenely into Mortimer's eyes.
"Retired, huh? Reformation? That sounds rough."
Mariss snorts, play-scowling at Vulras. "The Captain enjoys his japes, is all. It's been awhile since I've enjoyed a good skull thump on the field of battle, so I have to make do with thumping skulls into bedposts instead."
"Excuse me, we just recently came by the region, I hope not to offend you by asking what the Lammergeier is?"
"Mortimer Smith, Smith of Diamond Lake. 'Lammergeier' -- is that a seafaring vessel by any chance?"
Captain Vulras nods with genuine tolerance. "I can understand why you might take our name for a ship, but we are land-based. I lead a band of rangers in the mitigation efforts against the orc bands who think they're welcome in Redhand. Prince Zeech appreciates our work, so here I am." Vulras smiles briefly, before volleying back his own question. "Your group is certainly... interesting. I can not place you, and for that I beg your pardon. What service have you rendered unto Zeech? I see that we are honored as a whole, for how few of us have been invited."
Mariss is already beginning to make small bowing gestures to Vulras and the two Outcasts, his quota of conversation already met with those present, with other nearby conversations beckoning him to join.
...
"...But what brings you two together? I myself was attracted to your mustache, and so perhaps were you Lady Miszen. Is that how you met?”
Lady Miszen smiles with a dollop of unsureness. "Well, we both looked at each other and came to an unspoken agreement that whatever transpired this evening, we small folk would band together. Are you with us? Can we count on you, master Ascaria?" A twinkle appears in her eyes, as she enjoys her own amusement. "It feels that on the billiards table, the big balls gather on one side of the felt, while the small balls take the other side."
This thoroughly tickles the gnome with the moustache. "And here I thought it was my stunning disposition and flare for my entrance that drew you into my web of conversation, Lady Miszen. Oh, well. Company as grand as it is, I will not complain! Can you imagine what will be laid at our feet in this Grand Celebration?!" The gnome's throaty laugh turns several heads on the steps. He offers no apologies, as his mind is elsewhere for the formality faux pas.
"Well, I, for one, will remember to keep the flagons on tap, so your tongue will loosen appropriately, and we'll be regaled with epic storytelling to round out the evening!" Toris places a small hand on Ascaria's small shoulder, and gives it a good squeeze, though not too strong as to offend.
...
"Now, Mr. Montague and Ms. Mahuudril, don't we have such lovely weather! And these decorations..."
All three of Solrisa's conversational companions enjoy the exuberance of the maiden's small talk, as it fills the time still remaining before the events of the evening begin to engage them, en masse. Nary a word uttered in argument to the maiden's observations, until a new arrival speaks up.
"You overlooked one of the more spectacular sights, blue eyes. Am I right, Professor?" Mariss looks over Solrisa's shoulder at his fellow gender, and clicks his tongue. "Of course I am, but she's too humble to speak on herself, what with all the brocades and crenellations and manicured lawns to fawn over. There are proper things to fawn over, and under, especially." The half-orc gives Solrisa a good sniff, opening his nares wide.
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Mortimer falls silent, and listens for the more diplomatic Eidi to answer Vulras, while his gaze lazily follows Mariss, whose shadow boxing he largely ignored.
As he sees Mariss approach Solrisa, his face breaks out into a broad smile of amusement.
Predictable. Looks like Mariss might lose his head. Too bad they don't have any popcorn here.
He turns back to his present company, but keeps an ear out in Sol's direction.
He smiles back at Lady Miszen, "A pact 'ay? Well, we're on our best behavior tonight, and don't intend to start anything, but yes, I'll come to your aid," he flashes a grin at Toris, ”And that mustache. Of course, also the gentleman it is attached to!” he laughs. ”Never underestimate the small!” he hoists a drink to his new companions, conjuring one if need be.
”I imagine you both have some stories to tell. No one at this party is without layers.” Ascaria looks around the room, wondering who his greatest enemy is. His gaze returns to his companions, and he breaks out into an easy grin once again though doubt flickers.
He’s just no good at judging people and, dimly, he knows it. He waits for Mort and Eidi to make their moves. They always seem to have a good sense of the enemy.
Solrisa smiles and chats up Mariss. She asks him/her questions about their life, their history, and how they were invited to such a nice party.
”Yes, the crenellations are ver...crenulated,” Solrisa says looking at the shrubberies as if they were crenulated and if she knew what that meant. ”Oh, I do like parties ever so much!” Solrisa squees and cheers for the company of her companions and continues to make empty headed small talk, as she is very good at that.