"Oh, don't worry about it!" Zalamandra says, delicately holding a plate of sliced meat and bread in one hand. "I'm sure our group is only happy to find a place in Alhaster where people seem willing to express their true emotions. Tell us, Lanthis - how has a church of Kord lasted so long in this environment?"
Farrukh, not super into the proceedings, has kept reading the magazine as he idly munches on food.
He leans over to Astraden.
"Are all magazines like this? '12 Spellbinding Tips For Making Your Love Life Hotter Than Hell'? I'm pretty sure one of these is an actual ritual to summon a devil..."
"Why're you asking me? This is the first one I've laid eyes on. Not a lot of uh, trashy noble fare out in Diamond Lake and the Cairn Hills." Astraden takes a look at the article in question. "Oof. Yeah, looks like. But I don't think any of the devils we've fought were 'hot.' Literally or figuratively. Some of them were just skeletons, I mean. Who wants to f~+~ a skeleton?"
"Please don't ask that question. Someone might answer you."
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"Mmm?" Carina/Ederia glances over to Astraden & Farrukh. "What's that you're reading now?"
"...tips for making your love life hotter than--*snrk*" She barely suppresses a snicker. "Well, I know I don't need any of those."
"Oh, don't worry about it!" Zalamandra says, delicately holding a plate of sliced meat and bread in one hand. "I'm sure our group is only happy to find a place in Alhaster where people seem willing to express their true emotions. Tell us, Lanthis - how has a church of Kord lasted so long in this environment?"
"All religions are equal in Alhaster. Haven't you heard?"
"Well if the Kordian says it it must be true. Everybody knows they're full of the courage or stupidity to always speak their mind and never shy away from a confrontation. Why wold you be any different?"
Zalamandra makes a show of looking around. "Well, maybe you're just not concerned with appearances. But other churches seem to be doing quite well, while yours crumbles."
"Well if the Kordian says it it must be true. Everybody knows they're full of the courage or stupidity to always speak their mind and never shy away from a confrontation. Why would you be any different?"
"Natural selection," Lanthis says, with a smile that does not even come close to his eyes. "Yes, Miss, the Church of Kord is a little bit out of fashion at the moment. People spread rumors, and many see Kord as a brash, simple god. Me, I appreciate some simplicity in my life. I find our noble Prince Zeech's more subtle and intricate morality better suits quicker heads than mine.
"You're an odd group, you know. I wonder how a group like you comes to be. You're new to Redhand?"
"We are newcomers, yes."
Is he saying Kordites are dumb? Hmmmfp! What does he know? Hunk thinks to himself. He frowns at the priest, taking the perceived insult personally.
"You will find this city difficult to adjust to," Lanthis Chax says. "Know who your friends are. Hold everyone else at arm's reach. Speak falsely, friends."
"Aw, you called us friends!" Astraden says.
The morning is cold and foggy—a sign that the end of summer is nigh. It seems that autumn really is weaving its way in early this year.
In spite of the weather, the streets are full of people. There's a parade, the group realizes. Bards lead joyous brassy songs praising Prince Zeech and cursing his enemies—particularly agents of Iuz, "poison-quills", and the Ebon Triad.
"And show me a city, my fair lady, my good man,
Where freedom tastes as sweet, where we're all joined hand-in-hand
No Iuz with his skull-paved roads,
No Raknian's worm-eaten shows,
Where every knave gets what he's owed
Where poison-quills' black lips are sewed
And loyalty's repaid in gold!
Oh, yes, show me a nation, my fair lady, my good man
As full of joy and blessed of rulers as our fairest Redhand!"
The group is awoken in this manner at five in the morning.
They proceed onward to Mistwall Manor. Sure enough, just as the gnome assured them, it lies at the northwest corner of the city. It is a magnificent estate, though the approach is protected by a twelve-foot-high stone wall. The entrance to the estate grounds is a small gatehouse attended by a well-dressed guard with an excessively large, plumed bicorne hat. He leans back in his chair, appearing intent on what appears to be an encyclopedia he's reading, looking completely unaware of the party's approach.
Hunk grunts loudly to get the fop's attention.
"That's not really necessary Hunk, he saw us like a mile back."
"Hey there, is Lashonna in?" Astraden asks.
Hunk grunts again, as if to say, "Really"?
The guard looks up and glances the party over. He whistles through his teeth. "No visitations without an appointment. If you wish to send a gift, leave it at the gatehouse."
"Oh, of course not. Where might we make an appointment?" Zalamandra asks. "Oh, and what's that you're reading, if I may ask?"
The guard looks up again, doing a slight double-take as he sees Zalamandra. "Well, miss, it happens to be a special little read just for me." He closes the book abruptly, and the keen-eyed of the party can notice that there's some sort of thinner book or magazine hidden inside the larger, more innocuous book. He gives a little grin. "I'm afraid Her Ladyship's schedule's gotten quite booked, miss. She's not making appointments at this time."
"Would it help if we said this wasn't a social call? We need to talk about something important with her. Life or death stuff."
"Well, maybe you can help us with something else. Were you working here when a man named Bucknard visited her?"
"Everything's 'life or death' around here." The guard snorts. "Everyone wants Lashonna to plead on their behalf, or go help resolve this-or-that problem. She's a busy lady with a lot on her mind."
He glances at Astraden, considering it a moment. "Hm... that name's familiar. I remember because I kept getting his name wrong—'Balakard', I kept calling him, but that wasn't it. But it must've been ten years ago, at least!"
"Huh, and he visited her frequently? The only reason we're here is because we're trying to complete his research. We're not here because of her celebrity - though that helped us find her - or because we want her to go solve a problem for us. Just trying to get some info. That so happens to be life-or-death."
"Specifically, the Ebon Triad is still out there. And that's just the tip of the iceberg. Is that the kind of information that would pique her interest? Even if you just pass it on to her and she can decide from there whether we're worth putting on her calendar."
"So we're all right just putting that out there without knowing the guy we're telling or who else might be listening in? All right then."
"Hm." The guard seems to glance at something pinned to the wall. "Any reports on Ebon Triad activity should be taken immediately to the Blessed Angels. I can call a pair to speak with you, if you like, but you might not enjoy the conversation."
He starts to open the book again. "Anyways, yeah, Bucky visited a few times, I think. Fidgety man. I didn't much trust him—all sorts of nasty characters want to see the good lady, you know, and this one was a wizard. Can never trust wizards. But look, if you really want to see Lashonna, and you're really the types entitled to see her, you should look into getting an invitation to Zeech's Anniversary Banquet. She's going to be in attendance there. Might be your best shot."
Hunk moans sorrowfully at this revelation. Not the best disguises for fancy banquets....
"Well, I guess we can try that."
"I was thinking about introducing ourselves as Spiny's Six, honestly. Don't let Farrukh's paranoia bug you, Eben."
Carina's eyes light up at the mention of a banquet. "Hmm... might be the best option we can get right now..."
"Well, we're probably gonna have to stop being Astraden's Orcs if we want an invite to the banquet. We might be able to score one as Spiny's Six..."
"Only two of you are orcs! Chill out."
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"Let's return to the Deluxury and plan our route to acquiring those invitations," Zalamandra suggests.
Once in the safety of privacy, Cuetz drops his act. "If we want to be Spiny's Six again, we can just walk to the edge of town somewhere, drop our disguises and then say we teleported in, right? We heard how awesome Zeech was and wanted to congratulate him on kicking Ebony Triad ass?"
"...um..." Carina scratches her head. "...didn't we enter town without disguises?"
"Did we? I don't remember. Hunk must have stolen part of my soul...." Cuetzpalli looks concerned.
"Yeah, we did. I think we'd be fine with checking out of the Deluxury as Astraden's Asskickers, turning around in the street and walking back in as Spiny's Six."
"...Why did we even bother with the disguises then?"
"Recon?"
"Nothing was really lost by coming in with disguises. We couldn't be certain Spiny's Six wasn't a hated name here before asking around. But it sounds like our Triad-kicking cred is going to be an asset, so it should be safe to drop the act. Without revealing that we ever had an act, of course."
On the way back, Shan asks around: When is the banquet?
Late that night, the veil covering the party lifts. Astraden quietly summons everyone to her room that morning and re-casts the robe's spell before checkout. "I'd suggest skipping out on the bill, if we hadn't had to pay in advance."
Shan hears that the banquet is set to take place on the 6th of Harvester—four days from now. An excitable merchant informs her, "Everyone who's anyone will be attending."
"Good to know. Thanks, acquaintance," Shan tells the merchant.
"So, are we agreed on the plan - leave the inn today, I cancel the spell, and we walk back in and book new rooms?"