Perception
Rikkan nods at Basher's words. "Well, point those mercenaries out to us and we'll dispose of them. Then you can hire us. Simple enough, right? Easy peasy. And then Drancis can juggle for you."
Drancis nods in agreement with Rikkan. "A little blood and dirt never hurts. And I think you will like my juggling...Should you hire us I will put on a show you will never forget!"
Baushaudi Poison? Interesting... He notes the book lying on the table. Looks like his favorite reading material!
Zoreck glances at the open book.
Baushaudi poison? This guy must be more of an assassin than a merc. Now lemme think... who are the 'Baushaudi'...?
Zoreck nods his head toward the ratfolk as he replies to Basher, "Well, I could try juggling their heads. And I don't think they'd need 'em back when I'm done."
Zoreck hasn't heard of the Baushaudi - although the dialect that the book is written in would seem to be local to Argosa...
"An' what makes you think that I'd hire you lot over the pair I've got lined up already? Seems to me that I've never heard of you lot... an' I know most sellswords in Zel-Argose!!! You new here? You got some kind of powers that make you special... apart from the juggling heads?"
Zoreck smiles. "We've been here long enough. I'm not surprised you haven't heard of us, though. We've been keeping a low profile. And by that, I mean there aren't any witnesses to what we've done. None who can say anything to anyone, at least. We broke out of a high-security prison off-world. Killed a lot of klaven while we were at it. And we blew up the gate behind us on the way out. So, let's just say that we know our way around a fight, all right. But, I guess you're not ready to work with people of our caliber. Your loss. So, you can keep on working with these clowns, if you want. But when they screw up, and they will, and when you need to hire real professionals, you let us know."
Zoreck turns, as if to leave. "C'mon team. This guy is wasting our time."
Grit: 2/2
Mythic Power: 5/5
Bullets: 18
Powder: 18
Alchemical cartridges: 10
Drancis smiles heartily, "Last chance to see my...Juggling act!"
"Your other mercenaries ight be clever, but are they masters of magic?". Rikkan pulls a flask from his belt, chugs it and turns invisible. "I'm still here, just invisible. And I can do other magical tricks as well. I can summon all sorts of animals as well. Some of the rest of us have such skills as well," Rikkan says, still out of sight.
Aid another Diplomacy
Locke lifts a hand and summons four colourful dancing lights with a snap of his fingers. The lights begin to spin, faster and faster as though he was juggling them single handedly. "As my friends have put it, we aren't what you would call ordinary."
Mayenyi sneers. "Special powers?" She holds out a hand, and a spear grows into her hand. In the same motion, she snatches up the weapon and swings it around, stopping the polished wooden tip just inches from one of the ratfolk's noses.
It is maybe the juggling that finally persuades Basher to relent... regardless, relent he does, “Well, maybe I’d be smarter to go with you lot after all. Still, I signed a contract... them boys insisted on one”. Basher takes another bite of his meal, chewing thoughtfully for a moment, “I tell you what. You convince the two I hired that they should forfeit the job, and I’ll hire you instead — same fee, mind you, and not a coin more. They already negotiated the deal and you’ll live by it if you want in. They also said they’d be in the hookah bar. Go on and have yourselves a ‘friendly’ chat with ’em. Last one standing gets the job. Just bring that contract back with you. I don’t want any trouble with the Auditor if she finds out I broke my word on a written agreement like that”.
"If we walk out with the contract, you've not done anything wrong. If there's a mix up on their end, it's not your fault. We will be back with the contract asap."
Locke nods to Basher, hiding the disgust he holds for the man from his features. "Be back shortly then." With a twist of his fingers the dancing lights mold into a single ball one by one. Locke directs the remaining light to land on his open palm. He extinguishes it by making a fist. Then he turns and walks out of the room.
Drancis nods wordlessly and follows his friends out of the room.
Okay then... but we have to play the part of mercs who are very sure of themselves... and we haven't talked coin yet...
Zoreck turns back around. "Okay then. But one more question, mister Basher: What's the rate you agreed to pay them? Depending on that figure, we still might walk away."
Zoreck emphasizes the word "mister," ambiguous whether he's using it out of respect or mockery.
"You want to turn down the opportunity of a cool thousand? There aren't too many groups hiring and paying as generously as I do... not since the coteries clamped down on contracts within the city", whether Zoreck is trying to insult Basher or not, the bahgra is somewhat oblivious... and quaffs the remnants of his tankard of ale.
"A thousand, huh?" He looks to his companions and nods. "Okay. We're in. We'll dissuade our competition."
Walking out of the back room, Zoreck says in a low voice to his friends, "So... ask nicely first, threaten second, and then start cracking skulls? Also... these other mercs probably don't deserve to die, so I'm planning to pull my punches, should it come to that."
Drancis smiles fiercely, "That sounds like a plan. I will ask nicely...once. Should they fail to see reason, then yeah cracking skulls works for me. No need to waste them however."
Basher waves the group away dismissively as they make their way from the private room, "Like I said... just make sure that you bring the contract back if your crew are going to do this job for me"... It's about now, as the group leave, that they realise they know nothing about the mercenaries that Basher hired - fortuitous then that the bahgra shouts after them, "They're snaky- looking folks, ‘reptilian’ I think you’d say".
"Snakes, why'd it have to be snakes," Rikkan groans as he walks outside with the others. "Let's find this hookah bar and get to it."
"Snakes or not, we'll likely have to rough them up." Locke stops to considering what he just said before asking, "Does anyone else ever feel their morality has become a little shaky since leaving Golarion?" He says it light heartedly, but with a shadow of doubt in his eyes which he seems to shake off quickly. He then heads off to look for the hookah bar and the soon to be unlucky reptilians.
The hookah bar is most definitely within Baeboli's - indeed, as Locke recalls, it is probably the vice for which Baeboli's Emporium is most renowned...
A well-attended hookah bar rises a foot above the main floor at the far end of the building, tiled in psychedelic patterns partially obscured by the drifting smoke. Patrons recline on two long couches upholstered with mismatched hides from exotic alien beasts. Some have pipes to their mouths, while others sit in languorous oblivion, swept away by narcotic euphoria. Elaborate water pipes sit before the couches with two bored attendants walking from client to client, tending to their needs before returning to a rectangular counter stocked with various powders, rock crystals, shredded leaves, and less identifiable substances.
The bar is probably the busiest location within Baeboli's yet the two lizardfolk at the bar, conversing with each other in a strange language, are quite obvious as the group leave Basher's private room.
"That's true, Locke. But desperate times, and all that. As part of asking them nicely, maybe we should sweeten the deal by offering to just buy the contract from them... maybe offer a couple hundred gold coins for it?"
Drancis shakes his head slowly in reply. "I think they will want the full price of the contract before they walk away from it. We can still try though...they may see reason here." Judging by the tone of his voice Drancis sounds like he is trying to convince himself more than anyone else.
"It's worth a try." Locke overhears the two draconic speaking lizardfolk and offers some insight to his party, "They appear to be quite excited to try different drugs and disappointed in the lack of service so... Perhaps we can get them amiable with some free rounds of their choice?"
"Worst case is that if we can get them drunk, we can slow down their reactions. I doubt seriously they'd be willing to give up their ckntract for anything less than full price," Rikkan said, looking around at the den of iniquity.
"Treu...but if they were too drugged to fulfill the terms of the contract, then Basher would have to award it to us by default...right?" Drancis adds after a moment of thought.
Locke nods at Drancis in agreement and decides to take the intiative. He walks up to the bar and the two lizardfolk. He speaks to them in fluent draconic, "It's nice to hear someone speak a real language around here! Mind if I buy you fellas a round of whatever your vice is tonight and get some proper conversation in return?"
The closer of the two lizardfolk's tongue flickers out as Locke approaches... it replies, with some degree of curiosity, "You also speak the true language? Your pronunciation... it is inelegant..." The lizardfolk, introducing himself as Roog, offers to provide some guidance on how to pronounce the more challenging phrases, "But first... we must enjoy the Violet Bloom - they are the desiccated eggs of the Argosan Heptapus. You will smoke with us? And your friends?"
"He's not the only one that can speak the tongue," Rikkan pipes up, also in draconian. He slaps Locke on the back. "Only those of us that speak the language smoke. The others can find their own vice," Rikkan says, trying to keep half the team in their right minds.
Locke inwardly sighs in relief at Rikkan's timely entry. Getting the entire group inebriated had not been part of his plan. "As my friend says, the others don't know the finer things in life, neither the true language or smoke, but we would be happy to join you."
'Roog' laughs, a peculiar croaking noise, as Rikkan and Locke suggest that only they should smoke, "Ha!!! You are right... only those who know the wonder of the true language would appreciate the Violet Bloom... your friends, uneducated and unraised, can savour whatever dregs Baeboli's is touting as the latest trend!!!" It is a little noticeable that the latter part of Roog's sentence is spoken in a broken Argosan... enough that Zoreck, Mayenyi and Drancis would understand.... and then, as a waiter - dressed in the sartorially suspect uniform of Baeboli's - approaches, Roog calls out to him, "We'll take a hookah with four pipes... we are celebrating!!! You have the violet bloom?"
Soon enough, Locke and Rikkan find themselves in a booth with the two lizardfolk, Roog's companion already lost to a degree of bliss as the bubbles push through the liquid of the communal hookah. Taking a long suck of the pipe, Roog asks the pair what they are doing in Zel-Argose, "Your accents, I can't quite place... but you are not local?"
...meanwhile, the other members of the group are left to watch from a distance - sat on a chaise towards the side of the bar, Mayenyi notices the auttaine that hassled her when she first came into Baeboli's - with a tray of strange powders on the table next to them, they seem barely conscious... and now, through the haze and smoke, the group see what an eclectic range of races are represented here - humans and auttaine dominate yet there are bhagra, dwarves, a small group of gnome, a solitary and black-plumed tengu, a pair of nagaji and a tentacled creature that seems physiologically similar to Mr Sarlu's assitant...
Drancis glances around the bar, stealing more than a few nervous glances at his companions dealing with the reptilians, before finally settling his gaze on the familiar faces of his friends. The thought of actually imbibing these mind-altering narcotics was especially abhorrent to him. "Well, I hope this does not take all night...Hey isn't that the assistant we met earlier at Sarlu's?" He murmurs in a low voice, trying not to stare at 'him'.
Rikkan took up an end of pipe and began imitating the snake folk. "We are a long way from home, let's put it that way. What do you two do to earn creditsaround here? I'm sure they don't pay you to sit and smoke all day, or if they do, I'm applying," Rikkan says as he began to feel the crazy drug take hold.
Locke smiles gregariously and joins Rikkan and the reptilian creatures in smoking. Inwardly he feels nervous that Rikkan pushed the issue too quickly, but decides to go along with it, "It's not a simple task to make enough credits when so far from home, but we have been making do so far."
...the more Drancis looks, the more is convinced that the Oulbaene here is not Mr Sarlu's assistant - if anything, this creature is a little larger - and more alien looking than the one that they previously met. The scene does however re-emphasise, even after weeks in Zel-Argose, that this place is as far from 'home' as the friends could have ever imagined.
Meanwhile, with the lizardfolk, Rikkan and Locke are starting to feel a moderate euphoria... if not from the direct inhalation of the hookah, then from the clouds of smoke which are starting to linger here. The topic of conversation turns to money, and jobs, "The trade routes between Zel-Argose and Dae-Argose... that is what we work - you should try it!!! The merchants pay good coin for protection, especially when the nomad gangs are so active". Roog relights the dimming fire beneath the hookah, "If you don't mind getting your hands dirty... if you know what I mean".
Locke laughs a little harder than he intended to, "Mind? I live to get my hands dirty." He lazily blows smoke rings across the table, "Who do you have to speak to to get a job like that?"
"Our whole group are willing to bust heads when it becomes necessary. As it seems to necessary a great deal of the time. How long does it take for this to kick in ," the rat laughs.
The lizardfolk drops his voice, "Lath-Tom... the exchange coterie - they've got all of the best trade contacts. Caravans and airships - we've had work on all of them... 'fact, we just got in from a run this afternoon". He blows out a pair of purple smoke rings towards Rikkan, "What do you think to the 'bloom? It's good stuff... yeah?"
Mayenyi shakes her head, though she seems a bit uncertain herself. "No," she replies to Drancis, "I don't think so. That one's taller and a bit thinner... I think. (The lighting in here stinks.) I don't know the species, though." She shakes her head again, looking frustrated. "Everything here is wrong. Split me apart, I want to go home."
Standing next to Mayenyi, Zoreck nods his head in agreement. "I think you're right, May... they're the same species, but not the same person." He looks around the drug den with a barely concealed scowl. "Not that I've never smoked a little flayleaf... and I was dared into drinking Numerian fluid once..." He shudders at the memory, "...but I'll take a good stiff drink over other drugs any day."
He then flags over a barkeep and orders another Taarakian brandy. "Want one, May? It's on me. This stuff reminds me of Kyonin brandy from back home."
He nods his head toward his friends that are chatting with the lizardmen. "Any idea what they're saying? That sounds like draconic, but I don't actually speak it myself."
Mayenyi nods, her expression softening as she takes the drink. "What's a kai-oh-nin?" she asks.
"Bloom's good all right. Been a while since I partaked in such activities. Is here any work on the horizon? The boys and I need to find a way to make some credits," Rikkan presses the two a bit, hoping to project a bit of desperation.
"Kyonin is the ancient homeland of the elves back on our own world Golarion," Drancis adds helpfully as he takes a sip of his drink, "but I never knew they made brandy Zoreck. I thought all elves drank was wine."
"Kyonin? It's a land on my home-world. I've never been there, but people say it's beautiful. The natives of that land are elves... humanoids with long, pointy ears who are supposed to be really good at magic and are extremely long-lived. Like, unless they get themselves killed or something, they can live for a thousand years or more. Or, that's what they say, at least. Anyway, I always liked the brandy they make there. This stuff isn't the same, but it's pretty close."
By now, both Locke and Rikkan are starting to feel the numbing effects of the narcotic - senses are dulled yet their minds are starting to race in all sorts of directions... it is enough just to maintain the conversation that they initiated. Through the bliss, they hear that Roog and his companion have just landed a contract to lead the guard on a Lath-Tom land train between the great cities... and that, if Rikkan and Locke don't mind working directly for the lizardfolk, then there's a job waiting for them...
...meanwhile, watching proceedings from a short distance, Zoreck, Drancis and Mayenyi see how quickly intoxicated their friends are by the drugs within the hookah. Unable to follow the conversation too closely, they also watch the rest of the crowd here... and their eyes are somehow drawn to the two green-scaled nagaji near the rear of the room - ostentatiously shouting at the bar staff for more 'Zerk' and boasting that they are celebrating tonight.
Zoreck shrugs at Drancis' comment about elves drinking only wine. "I dunno. I never really got to know any elves personally. Maybe that brandy was solely for export, but it was pretty good..."
The nagaji's shouts for more 'zerk' suddenly draws the Numerian's attention.
'Zerk?'
Zoreck then glances between the nagaji demanding more zerk and the very baked lizardfolk toking it up with his friends. "I wonder..."
Zoreck flags the barkeep and tells him to put the nagaji's next round of 'zerk' on his own tab and to point him out to them. If they look his way, he raises his glass to them.
Zerk, Zoreck is informed by one of the staff, is a mild stimulant that is favoured by those who are merely 'warming up' towards more extreme pleasures... a crystalline powder in a vial, Zoreck buys enough product that his wallet doesn't take too unpleasant a hit whilst still being enough to get the attention of the Nagaji...
...tongues flickering excitedly as the powders are placed in front of them, the pair gesture at Zoreck and his companions to come over, "Join ussss... You are cssselebrating as well???"
Locke finally realizes that he and Rikkan likely have the wrong people. Well too late now, his mind is far too foggy to be of help with whomever the real target is, hopefully the others can manage it. Still, he begins to lessen his intake of smoke in the hopes of sobering up a little if he is needed. He keeps making small talk with the lizardfolk in the mean time, questioning them about the particulars of their previous jobs and the next one.
Rikkan wasn't quite sure where the conversation was going anymore. He was beginning to simply focus on trying to not fall out of his chair. "Well, do you all have a card or something? I think this one might have had his fill," he says, pointing to Locke.
The room was beginning to take on a nice haze-y effect that Rikkan attributed to the smoke.
Zoreck's body language shows he has finally identified the actual targets. Giving his friends an irresolute look, he finally decides to join Zoreck as he heads over to the second group of Nagaji.
How can you tell these races apart?
Sliding next to Zoreck he raises his wine glass in greeting. "Yes you could say we are celebrating! We have made quite a big score and what is the point of wealth if not to spread it around?"