A young halfling runner wearing the tabard of Veteran Caravan Services enters the lodge at a trot yelling, ”Urgent missive from Karcau! Lady Kalistoff needs our best in Ustalav.”
He waves a perfumed letter in the air, then pins it to the notice board.
Signed,
Venture-Captain Basia Kalistoff
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A thin wiry half orc with good posture and sharp features speaks with commanding voice,
"Good day, I am Tak and this is my spirit guardian. It's name was Nail though since it's transformation into a Paracletus I don't know if it has a name."
"Be warned it may, as we travel, beam images of the past, present, or future directly into your mind. Don't be afraid it is how the species communicates. I assure you will adjust, and the information it provides can be useful."
"I hope that my powers will assist you all in our journey. If there are spells that you would find beneficial feel free to request them. I may not be the most powerful caster, but I do have means of reaching across the bounds of magic.
Quietly Tak prays, "May the golden eye of heaven bless us."
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A pale, thin elf dressed in what look like filthy pajamas steps into the lounge. Her hair is disheveled and she reeks of body odor and cheap beer. Behind her is trailing a white and blacked spotted rat who seems somehow embarrassed by the state that her mistress is in.
She reads the note on the notice board and sighs. "We're going to the theatre I guess. Better tidy up."
She pulls a mirror out of her bag and as she looks at it, her hair begins to fall in line, the dirty smudges on her skin disappear, and her stench disappers, replaced with a subtle, flowery perfume. Satisfied, she taps her wrists three times and a fashionable black gown cascades over her.
"Ah, that's better."
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Because she is of course the best, a massive Nagaji in Tien finery approaches the board. Heavily scaled skin and claws tell any onlooker that this is no ordinary Nagaji, though beyond that it might be a bit of guesswork.
"Ah, splendid. I have not been to Karcau. They do seek the best, after all... who would think themselves better?" She says it with a honeyed tongue and a slight lisp that comes from a serpentine mouth trying to frame the common tongue. "I am Sahessrala Lyruhe, Lady of Taldor, beloved daughter of Nagajor, and blood of the Dragon. Who dares stand against my might?"
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Next to approach the board is another stunningly beautiful female elf with shimmering violet eyes and long, flowing brown hair. Looking young for her race, perhaps in her mid hundreds, the confident looking girl wears a shiny, very well-fitted and fashionably low-cut mithril chain shirt underneath a fine purple cloak. An extremely sharp looking scimitar is sheathed at her hip. She also sports some impressive jewellery, including a dark black amulet that seems to cling to the skin above her breasts and a jewelled band that she wears on her head.
She arrives just in time to witness her fellow elf's transformation. "Oh sweetie, I was just about to say that you'd really let yourself go, but nice trick, I must say. That must come in so handy on those nights that we all hate when you're trying to get ready for a big night out on the town after a hard day's work in some grimy dungeon...am I right?"
Then, noticing the rest of the group, she greets them with a mischievous smile. "Well met, everyone. I'm Thoriel! Looks like we've all got a date together at the Theatre in a couple of weeks. Sounds intriguing!" With that she prepares to head off, but spares a moment to give the Nagaji a small but graceful curtsy, "My lady! I for one would not stand against one so clearly well regarded in my beloved homeland", and a wink to the wiry half-orc. "I look forward to spending more time with you and your, whatever you said it was, but from someone who's lived as long as I already have, I'll tell you that the past and future are largely filled with mundane tasks or sadness and loss...that's why I try and live life in the present! Speaking of which I've got somewhere to be...see you all in a couple of weeks!"
With a final wave of her hand, she gracefully makes her way back into the crowd and is gone.
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A thin and, well, angular small dark man in Orsirian robes is sitting at the bar alone. He seems to have ordered nearly one of everything the bar has to offer and has mixed various concoctions in different glasses and is happily tasting the results. One result sputters and fumes before boiling over and making a mess. A glint of metallic armor can be glimpsed through this robes and both crossbow and long bow appropriate for his size rest on his back. A small spear sits close by.
The bartender, annoyed at the mess, begins to clear the glassware and the small man, an unhappy look on his face gets up and moves to the board to read the missive there. Oh my. Can't have this, can we. he says to himself, a look of obvious concern on his face. The Pathfinder's name must be cleared. I, Greyveil, master alchemist of Osirian shall accompany you all. We shall get this sorted out. Yes, we shall.
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Bustling about the lodge since you all arrived is a tall, lanky Chelaxian man — Chelaxian, to be sure, but also something...more. Perhaps it's the turquoise eyes and the shiny, golden hair that make him seem somewhat off. Or maybe it's the bevy of pamphlets he's distributed over the course of the hour or so he's been here, accompanied by the omnipresent proclamation that he is Chusynd Karkota , Cleric of
Upon seeing the missive on the board, Chusynd briefly bows his head in prayer, then brightly exclaims, Bah the grace of Aroden, ah have been sent here to lend a hand, and ah shall answer that call!
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As you make your greetings, a small Pathfinder in holy vestments approaches with a scroll and quill in hand. She smiles up at each of you from under curly brown hair. "Hi everyone! My name's Leena, and my brother asked me to take roll for everyone that answers the missive. I think I have everyone, from Tak to Chooosind...did I say that right? I bet I didn't spell it right. Oh well!" She coughs in embarassment before continuing. "I was told you're all very important on a big important mission and that they need you in country quick, so if you'll come with me they have a conjurer to send you on your way!" She nods in satisfaction, waiting for your answer.
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Sahess pauses. "Given the propensity of these situations to devolve into violence, I would be remiss if I did not gather my armor, and perhaps also a sword." With that said, Sahess disappears from the lodge, to return full half an hour later. Bedecked in black armor, with white gold filigree and an icy theme, there is only a resemblance in size with the Nagaji who previously was present. She takes off the helmet once inside again. "I should be ready now. Wouldn't do to travel without all of my gear." There is a sword full two meters long on her back, made of a gleaming black metal and with a jeweled hilt.
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Selidiliel snaps back at Thoriel "Ah, you think that poor, wretched drunkard was the one letting herself go? No, that was me holding things together. The lovely creature you see standing before you, she is the one letting herself go! She's the one no longer in control! She has let the beast out of its cage, and it is craving meat!" She snaps her head back and laughs maniacally.
She looks around the room imperiously, then her features suddenly soften. "I apologize. I should introduce myself properly. My name is Seldiliel Sharondaerl but since some individuals have had trouble with that name I have taken to allowing myself to be referred to as Sharon. "
"Sharon" grabs Sahess by the sleeve as she walks by and whispers into her ear
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Sahess doesn't quite know what to make of these strange people of Avistan, Casmaron, and Garund. At least the small dark one speaks sense. To Seldiel, she gives a stern look. "Illegal? Never. I defend myself most vigorously, but I do not strike an opponent who is not intending me harm, I do not steal, and I commit no other crimes." She seems offended, as a Lady it would be most unbecoming to be caught committing crimes. I mean if they were to excuse her failure to wear proper Lady-like clothing, and to swing around massive implements of pain, she could at least not sully herself by tangling with legal authority.
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When the Pathfinders gather once again, they find Leena seated on a bench kicking her feet back and forth. Not quite able to reach the floor, she hops off as the party approaches. "All ready to go? Then just follow me!" A quick check of the roll confirms everyone present and accounted for. A short walk brings the ensemble to a high ceiling-ed chamber with stone floors and chalk-marked circles traced over the stone. The more magically inclined know this to be one of the many spell casting cells of the lodge, used for study and practice of the magic arts.
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A man with the ruddy complexion of a desert native stands with a single sheet of parchment, studying it closely. His garb is that of fine silks over a bare chest and sturdy trousers. Red hair is streaked with orange and crimson eyes burn with intensity, the hint of extraplanar heritage obvious in his features.
"Ah, the very subjects of my task this day! Welcome, Pathfinders, to the august presence of Lord Able Elish, scion of the ANCIENT AND NOBLE EFREETI!" The bombast of his deep voice reverberates against the bare walls, seemingly unnoticed. "If you are prepared, the POWER FLOWING THROUGH MY BLOOD shall soon cast you across the face of Golarion, where you shall embark on your mission for our GLORIOUS SOCIETY!"
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You don't wanna know what is flowing through my blood. the wayang alchemist says to no one in particular but seems to be mostly ready to go. And where exactly will you send us Lord Elish? Somewhere in Karcau I suppose? But where exactly? Will it be safe where we arrive, or should we prepare for trouble before we depart?
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The noble ifrit gestures to the party. "Even for my POWERFUL MAGICS there are too many of you to transport through the aether in a single incantation. And Karcau is beyond even my MIGHTY REACH from here in Absalom. Thus, I shall transport you to a town in which THE POWER OF THE EFREETI burned foul corruption away in time past. A driver awaits you there in Carrion Hill to transport you safely the rest of the journey, as I will have other duties to perform when this task is done." He cups his chin in one hand thoughtfully. "There should be no dangers left to trouble you when we arrive, but be vigilant on the trip to Karcau."
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Tak's head lists slightly all the grandiosity of this fiery fellow. He then nods acknowledging the Wisdom in Greyvail's questions.
"What can you tell us about the city and this theatre? Do we have names and descriptions of the pathfinders in the area?"
More sternly, "It would be silly to ask if we have enemies in the area, so let me ask who are our most dangerous enemies in the area?"
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Seldiliel looks at Tak with disgust. "Why are you filling our heads with images of sewers and bugs and disgusting swamp people? We're planning on going to an opera, so those things hardly seem relevant."
Seldiliel picks up her rat and casts a false life spell on herself. "Alright, I'm ready to go. Send me in!"
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The sorcerer frowns at the statement. "Truly, our GLORIOUS SOCIETY asks much of us. My own brother adventured in the sewers of Augustana and claimed it enhanced the strength of his EFRRETI MAGIC. I had not the heart to explain the truth." The frown turns to a grimace. "Even my own exploits required journey through the tunnels of Oppara, where poisonous vermin assailed my MIGHTY CONSTITUTION and left me weakened for the TREACHEROUS ATTACK of a cowardly foe to lay me low." He touches a hand to his brow at the painful memory before raising his head. "But enough of these tales. Gather yourselves in equal groups upon the inscribed circles!" He waves at hand at the two arcane diagrams set in the floor.
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Meanwhile, Thoriel readies herself to head out and meet the others at the Opera. What a night last night! Who knew Karcau threw such incredible parties, she was glad she ended up getting in a day early.
Brushing her hair for the third time this evening, the elf thinks she might just be getting it close to how she likes it. She must remember to ask that Seldiliel (was that her name?) for that spell. Such a time saver!
She just hopes the others will be on time and wonders where they've been this last week?
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Seldiliel is shaking in anticipation and bouncing back and forth on her heels. "Oh boy! We get to teleport in! We're going now! This is so exciting! I really need this. I couldn't spend another day in the library, sorting scrolls and cataloguing chronicles. It needs to get out. It's been making demands! On the last sentence, her voice cracks with nervousness. Seldiliel's gaze goes down to her feet and she takes several quick, loud breaths.
When she looks up again she speaks in a soft low voice,"It's probably just better if I tell you. There is something inside me, wild and cruel. Its always there in the darkness; hungry and raving. My powers come from the tension between our psyches struggling for control. It's been a long time since it's been able to make me do anything really bad; but sometimes it does take control for a moment or two. So if I do or say something odd, its probably the Beast. But then, that's why I got Nibbles here," she says, picking up her rat and hugging him tightly against her. "He keeps an eye on me and makes sure I don't go crazy evil on everybody!"
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"I have travelled with many pathfinders, and very fewer show your self awareness. We will lookout for you, but with what you face daily I am happy to have your strength with us."
Tak thinks about all of the loose cannons he as travels with in the past. Seldiliel Sharondaerl cannot be worse than them.
Without further ado, the boisterous ifrit speaks arcane words in Ignan, whisking you across the world. It takes two trips to ferry you all to the town square of the dismal town of Carrion Hill, before you are left to your own devices. A carriage sits, the driver impassively regarding your appearance without shock or surprise, unlike the rest of the occupants.
"Ferdinand Farfacé, at your service sers and madams." he introduces himself, clambering down to assist in loading any bags. "I have been instructed to bring you to the city of Karcau with all haste, so please do seat yourselves and we shall be off." Once the party is settled within, your journey continues over several uneventful days, with nights spent in carriage houses along the road between Carrion Hill and Karcau.
The cities and towns of Ustalav (and even some of the countryside) are characteristically dark and oppressive, reveling in the gothic construction of manors and castles. As you approach Karcau, a lack of fortifications gives the city an airiness unique to the country. An obvious architectural love of arches, balconies, and towers, each made of limestone or pale marsh woods aid in opening the city, filling the streets and structures with light. When a maid opens one of the large, elaborate windows of an elegant townhouse, arpeggios drift gently down to the street. The whole city echoes and rings as the city’s musicians and hopeful apprentices practice almost endlessly. The drums, bells, lyres and tambourines of residents on the outskirts of town give way to harps, flutes, cellos and pianos as you approach the storied city center. Men with capes, tall hats, and the occasional decorated mask browse displays of instruments and cross paths with women in daring gowns with long gloves and ornate veils buying bread from carts and tittering over tutors.
Ferdinand's scowl is just visible through the open privacy window as the carriage slows. Just visible in the distance stands an extravagant structure resembling a giant mausoleum with morbid statuary and the organization’s symbol, a spiral of three red tears, decorating the exterior. The towering building is likely visible from anywhere in the city. ”Local funerals are flashy, opulent affairs arranged by the Eylusia Company—purveyors of fine funeral experiences.” This morning, there is a long line of people moving slowly into town. Dancers, a magician, and a drum line in sharp uniforms entertain a thin morning crowd. As you pass by the affair, Ferdinand says stiffly, ”We must go out of our way to avoid the parade, but it should not delay us unduly. Consider it the scenic route.” his tight voice resigned and somber.
The morning mist is nearly gone when you pass by the Karcau Opera. ”The Karcau Opera stands as the most prestigious school of the arts in northern Avistan. Upon its campus stand the Karcau Conservatory, the Livgrace Orchestra, the Dyemeir Opera House, and the Museum of Song.” Ferdinand proudly explains. As you pass by a boarding house, a young man with messy red hair rushes to collect a haphazard stack of papers and parchment from the pavement before it can blow away. Two prima donnas giggle as they pass and a man strides by, robes flapping in the breeze off the lake, appearing not to notice the boy. A young woman with large, glossy hair to best her robust body dashes to a nearby fountain and gracefully saves a solo from taking an unfortunate swim. Not a hair on her head is out of place when she offers a hand to the young man.
Finally, the carriage draws up to Blaispear Plaza. Before the cold eyes of the Cloisoi Theater’s innumerable angels stand two dozen ornate granite pedestals. From upon these columns the posturing bronzes of the region’s greatest heroes consider their beneficiaries, noble figures like Coalise, who lured the Graidemere Serpent to its doom; Jayde the Winged Warrior; the twins Guitad and Maidce standing against the morlock hordes; the Desnan priest, Adterly; and Silversong, the steed of the exiled poet Carmain Rowles. Amid these personalities also rest several vacant pedestals. Below the statue of the horse, a man in tails strums a small harp and sings a sorrowful ballad. A scruffy teen across the way throws her hat to the pavement and starts tuning a lyre. Before she begins to play, two lawmen approach her from one corner of the plaza and carry her bodily from the square.
Ferdinand stops the carriage at the far end of Blaispear Plaza from the theatre, jumps down from the driver’s bench, and opens the door with a short bow. ”Lady Kalistoff said to leave you here.” he says, producing a sealed letter addressed to Pathfinders.
I am glad your journey was a safe one. Because the lodge at Miregold Manor does not have the space to host you all, I suggest you stay at The Aria or find other accommodations more to your liking. The city is used to hosting visitors and there are many from which to choose. You’ll find The Aria offers luxurious accommodations, with plenty of room for all of you. A suite goes for 32gp a night and includes a fireplace, a superior lock on the outer door, and two large bedrooms, plus servants on call to clean, cook, help with dressing, or send messages. Musicians are retained to play day and night in The Aria’s private performance space, though you may reserve the stage for a favored artist or to perform yourself for a small fee. Each room has levered registers behind decorative grilles to allow the music to carry throughout the building as you please. I hope you make the most of your brief stay.
Until tonight,
Weclome Pathfinders to Karcau, the Village of Voices!
Venture-Captain Basia Kalistoff
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Selidiliel bows stiffly to Tak and says, "Tak, I appreciate your wisdom and willingness to bend with the winds of fortune. I look forward to our future association together." She puts her hands on her hips and looks over everyone in the group. "What an attractive and smart looking group we have here! I think we're going to have a lot of fun together!"
Upon arriving in Karcau:
"The Aria sounds like acceptable accommodations. Shall we pair off, or would it make more sense for us to all bunk up in one suite together?"
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Thoriel is genuinely pleased to see the rest of the group arrive at the theatre, only moments after herself. "Glad you could make it. This city's not bad...can't believe I've never been here before...and this place that we all get to stay at, it sounds simply divine! A performance space and everything. Give me enough wine and I might even do a dance for you all."
At the mention of rooms, the magus just shrugs."Not sure we'll be doing much sleeping in a city like this, but if we do pair up, it should be you and me." She winks at Seldiliel. "You can teach me that trick and well, it'll be like a slumber party...of course all of us in the same room, a few bottles of wine and some music, that could be fun too, what do you think?"
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Chusynd bows his head as the party passes the funeral parade. May Aroden guide this unfortunate soul on their way toward their final rest,[]b he says aloud, to no one in particular. [b]One of the Living God's guises is that of the Shepherd, after all.
Chusynd takes note of the Aria, and discusses the price of accommodations at length with the innkeeper, trying to explain the virtues of having representatives of such a renowned, well-heeled organization as the Pathfinder Society extolling the virtues of the Aria far and wide — might be good for future business.
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Tak stand quietly and let's the group proceed ahead of him. Plays, performance, fashionable society seem a bit more fitting of his compatriots. The scared and tattooed half orc keeps his hood up but his eyes vigilant.
Tak not know what else to do in this type of situation looks around for anyone to direct the group toward.
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Sahess considers the lodging arrangements as all her compatriots had. There was something to be said for shared rooms, for companionship and company. There was also something said for solitude, for the ability to rest and rise well-prepared for the day's trials and tribulations.
The discussion for a discount seemed to be progressing nicely and Sahess adds her voice to those arguing for a better rate. "I am also a Lady of Taldor, and emissary from Nagajor. It would do much to building relations between our several nations to show favor."
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Greyveil enjoys the travel through Ustalav, taking a seat by Seldiliel. At various quiet times he asks her scholarly questions about her "condition" and if she is interest in a remedy. I've several infusions that will certainly do something to you. Its possible that something would be beneficial, after some well, more than mild discomfort. His intentions seem good if his ideas somewhat dramatic.
Once the group arrives Greyveil notes I am small and take very little room. I would be quite fine sharing a room with two or more others.
To the inkeeper Greyveil offers If you give us a good enough rate on the rooms I can almost guarantee that noting too strange will happen in your kitchens during our stay.
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Seldiliel is willing to talk with Greyveil about her condition, among other arcane subjects. She doesn't understand alchemy but she does have an appreciation for it. "I have tried a lot of remedies over the years. Remember, I've been like this ever since my disappearence as a child. I'm pessimistic that I will every find a "cure," but I would still try anything that seemed promising."
Seldiliel scoffs at her party members who attempt to bargain for a cheaper rate on their room. "It's just money, boys. If you're worried about it, I got plenty to go around." Seldiliel dumps a large fistful of silver and gold coins out on the table, many of the coins rolling off the table and bouncing off the floor.
Seldiliel points imperiously at the innkeeper and shouts, "That should cover a suite for me and more! Anyone that wants to join me there is welcome!" Seldiliel walks towards the innkeeper until her face is only an inch or two away from his. Her eyes are blazing madly as she stares down at him. "And I'm paying good money, so I expect good service. I am going to be very disappointed if I have to come down and ask for hot bath water or clean towels! You should know what I want before I do! I AM A VERY IMPORTANT GUEST AND I EXPECT YOU TO ANTICIPATE MY NEEDS!"
The innkeep's plastered smile is quick to grow wider as the tales of noble titles and esteemed historians spins before him. "Why certainly, I could see a discounted rate for such illustrious patronage. If it not too bold, perhaps you might share your evaluation of our establishment to other genteel folk who might pass by..." The plaster cracks slightly, with a double take to Chusynd. "...Pathfinders, you say?" Before he can finish the line of thought, Seldiliel corners him, causing his high forehead to break out in sweat.
"F-fine, this will more than cover the rooms." he agrees, scooping the scattered coins together on the counter. Leaning in to Sahess' direction, he adds in a whisper "...just for the night and be sure take her with you when you leave!" Keys are produced, before the man studiously busies himself around the common.
"Honored Scholar,
Countless treasure-hunters have picked over Osirion’s treasures since the desert kingdom first declined. Most were desperate or greedy, yet some sought enlightenment in an ancient civilization’s ruins. One organization known as the Esoteric Order of the Palatine Eye is famous in Ustalav yet also very secretive, and my attempts to contact them to discuss any relics they extracted have earned no response.
Perhaps I am too forward or am simply perceived as too distant a correspondent for such a regional yet influential organization as the order to recognize. I have learned that you are in Ustalav now, and perhaps you might contact the order yourself after concluding your business there. Understand the gravity of the situation: the order possesses a multi-hued precious stone the size of a halfling’s fist, and that gem is one that my sage-granted memories remember as one of the sage jewels.
Learn what you can so that I might discuss the terms by which we could
recover it without offending the Palatine Eye.
—Tahonikepsu"
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Later than evening, you cross Blaispear Plaza, approach the innumerable angles of Cloisoi Theater, climb the wide staircase to the building and enter through double-wide doors into the lobby.
The lobby of the Cloisoi Theater is the epitome of aristocratic refinement. Marble statues of noteworthy Ustalavic nobles are on display throughout the room, and the swell of a large orchestra reverberates from the theater beyond. The lobby is empty, save for Venture-Captain Basia Kalistoff, who sits in a velvet chair beneath a large portrait of a young singer. The raven-haired adventurer smooths her dark silk gown, and motions invitingly to several nearby settees. “Thank you for joining me this evening, and welcome to Karcau. As you may know, Pathfinders do not enjoy a kind reputation in Ustalav, and the rather brief command of my cousin Skeldon Miregrold did little to help that before nearly being killed by the dark folk years ago; he murdered, betrayed, and stole from many, and he eventually paid the price for it. I have done what I can since then to convince the locals that we are not murderous, grave-robbing vigilantes.” she says shaking her head at the memory.
“Over the past few months, a rash of disappearances has plagued Karcau. At first the victims were shopkeepers and stable boys—tragic, but easily relegated to the guards to investigate. However, last week someone abducted a noblewoman from this very theater.” Basia Kalistoff gestures to the portrait above her, which features a stunningly beautiful woman with a mass of curly red hair and a mischievous grin. “Olivina Sharnau is the darling of the Karcau theater scene and the heiress to a substantial fortune. Her disappearance has piqued concern among the city’s nobility, and it won’t be long until fingers begin pointing at the Pathfinder Society. My hope is that by solving this mystery ourselves, we’ll be seen as heroes and not suspects. Any evidence you can gather to strengthen our case can only help.”
A thunderous round of applause explodes from beyond the theater’s doors, and Kalistoff raises her voice to be heard above the din. “I recently received a request from Countess Sasandra Livgrace, who inquired about our doing exactly that. She is one of the few and finest nobles who truly trusts the Society, so keeping her vote of confidence—and that of any other noble we can manage—during this investigation is critical. Do you have any questions?”
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Not one for studying books that don't help her dancing or fighting, Thoriel doesn't have much to add on the local history or nobles.
Once the initial briefing is over, the young elf drags her eyes away from the portrait of the missing woman to ask the VC a question. "Abducted from this theatre, did you say? Whereabouts was she exactly when she was last seen? No-one saw anything or anyone suspicious on the night she went missing?" Thoriel thinks of one more important question before she gives Basia a chance to answer her first batch of queries. "Oh, and before I forget, you must tell me who does her hair?"
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Seldiliel is willing to talk with Greyveil about her condition, among other arcane subjects. She doesn't understand alchemy but she does have an appreciation for it. "I have tried a lot of remedies over the years. Remember, I've been like this ever since my disappearence as a child. I'm pessimistic that I will every find a "cure," but I would still try anything that seemed promising."
Seldiliel scoffs at her party members who attempt to bargain for a cheaper rate on their room. "It's just money, boys. If you're worried about it, I got plenty to go around." Seldiliel dumps a large fistful of silver and gold coins out on the table, many of the coins rolling off the table and bouncing off the floor.
Seldiliel points imperiously at the innkeeper and shouts, "That should cover a suite for me and more! Anyone that wants to join me there is welcome!" Seldiliel walks towards the innkeeper until her face is only an inch or two away from his. Her eyes are blazing madly as she stares down at him. "And I'm paying good money, so I expect good service. I am going to be very disappointed if I have to come down and ask for hot bath water or clean towels! You should know what I want before I do! I AM A VERY IMPORTANT GUEST AND I EXPECT YOU TO ANTICIPATE MY NEEDS!"
[dice=Intimidate]1d20+13
Greyveil is taken aback and tries to explain to Seldiliel Don't think of it as gold. Think of it as potential research accomplished.
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Do you have any questions?
Chusynd nods and grins as the Venture-Captain speaks, and it's not readily apparent whether he's actually heard a word she's said or not or he's wearing the vapid smile of a politician. What can you tell us of the Sharnau family, of whom this missing Olivina is an heiress? By Aroden's we-uhl, we shall find her!
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Greyveil considers for a moment and asks Who might benefit from a missing Olivina Sharnau? I recall that a series of murders shook this theater decades ago, and the building is rumored to be haunted. What can you tell us about those murders? Was the murderer ever caught? I worry that the murderer's spirit might be active here.
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Not wanting to sleep in a room with someone prone to such outbursts, Sahess provides for her own room and offers the second bedroom to Greyveil, a reprieve from the insanity. She assures the innkeeper she will keep tabs on her acquaintance Sharon.
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Knowing little about history, or even about the nobility of which she is a part , Sahess absorbs the speech and considers. "Who would most obviously benefit from this abduction?"