(PFS 09-08) GM Dinketry and the Birthright Betrayed #2 (Inactive)

Game Master dinketry

Surprise twist!!!

Go ahead and introduce your characters here - in character. I'll catch up shortly.

You've been roused from your idle pursuits by the Society to make your way to Oppara, capital city of Taldor at the behest of Muesello, the clandestine Venture-Captain of the City of Empire. Your instructions have led you to the docks in Oppara, and (to some of you) a familiar mundane-appearing bait and tackle shop. The door to the small shop is closed and a "Gone Fishing" sign is posted.

Boats... always boats. I suppose with an organization that is headquartered on an island, that is unavoidable. I don't mind so much, but Okane hates the confinement, and his moods always affect me.

Kita reaches up to stroke Okane's nose as they walk from the docks. "After this mission, maybe we'll take a slow ride to Andoran and wait for an assignment there. No more boats for a while, Okane."

Reaching the bait shop, Kita reaches up to remove the stirge head mask from his newly earned O-yoroi armor.

"Looks like we are the first ones here. 'Gone fishing'. Predictable. Hopefully we won't be meeting another pretentious twit like that magistrate from Po Li. Fishing, indeed. We were too kind to him."

Assuming a more casual parade rest, Kita sets in to wait for their contact, performing mental exercises in his head.

A very well dressed elf strolls pridefully through the streets up to the door to the bait and tackle shop. As he approaches the shop a flash of disgust quickly washes over his haughty face and then disappears just as quickly.

Seemingly ignoring any others presence the elf reaches out to open the door with a white gloved hand.

I understand that T-t-taldane can be a d-d-difficult language, b-b-but it does say "Gone F-f-Fishing"

A small, cloaked figure adored in bones and fetishes stands behind the small gathering. He lowers his hood to reveal the face of a small brown ratfolk, his face adorned with the thickest pair of glasses you've ever seen that make his eyes look three times bigger than they should, giving his squinty look a comical appeal.

C-considering the r-resident of this p-p-particular establishment, it may b-be b-best to k-knock first... I can imagine a f-few n-nasty s-s-surprises he may have for unw-welcome guests.

Kita's mouth seems immediately unhappy to be anywhere near the little ratfolk. For his measure, the ratfolk does take a few steps away.

S-sorry about that... I t-tend to have that effect on animals for s-some reason.

A red haired woman arrives calmly. She smiles charmingly and waves a hand towards Kita, ignoring the two others.

"Well met, sir! I'm pleased to meet you and I'm sure I'll have a lot of... fun venturing with you. What is your name? I am called Segray, of House Starnon in Westcrown." she says on a light tone.

As she makes her way towards the samurai, every move she makes display years of education. Her hair are fiery-red but you can sense that something is amiss about her appearance. Though she appears and wears clothes of a chelaxian noble, her aura seems otherworldly.

Without waiting an answer from the man, she looks at the sign, puts hands on her hips, pouting her lips. "Gone fishing? It means, business, I guess. Shall we enter?" she asks.

With his gloved hand on the door, about to open it, (hopefully) the fancy looking elf turns his head to survey the newcomers. His curiosity is peaked by the otherworldly beauty.

My, my. What do we have here? he thinks to himself as he focuses the power through his thoughts. The elf's eyes glow a purple hue for a moment.

Casts Psychic Reading

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 8 + 5 ⇒ (19) + 8 + 5 = 32
1d100 ⇒ 61
Race, Class, Alignment
1=Oracle, 2=Sorcerer
1d2 ⇒ 2

The elf smiles to himself and continues his attempt to open the door.

"Ah, splendid, you're all here already" booms a tall man with dark swept back hair and a waxed mustache, striding confidently along the dock. He wears a well-combed fur-lined cloak over heavy armour, has a ornately handled longsword at his belt, and a shield with an ornate crest is strapped on to his back. He squints at the sign, looks a little nonplussed, and then turns to the others, bowing courteously to Segray and nodding curtly at Uzziah and Kita, although he looks a bit unsure about Remmy.

"Chelk, of House Hurzon-Charanthis-Metholis." he introduces himself, looking rather hopeful that someone might recognize the name. He taps the side of his nose - "Understand we're doing a bit of the old hush-hush, what? What do you chaps reckon the sign means - go in? Or should we go have a look around the docks for our, er, contact?"

Kita settles Okane with a simple touch, but gives the ratfolk a suspicious eye.

"Okane will be fine, good... er... rat... man."

Moving past the awkwardness of the uncertain protocol, Kita attempts to smooth over the introduction.

"Apologies, Sir. I spent several years in the city guard and most ratfolk that I dealt with had a most decidedly unsavory reputation. You are a Pathfinder, I assume, by your presence here, so I'll attempt to discard any preconceived notions of your character.

I am Kita Kyuichi. Pleased to meet you."

Kita bows to the ratfolk as more people arrive.

Responding to Segray's introduction, Kita is momentarily thrown off by something about her presence. However, after his experiences forming a deep friendship with the long dead Princess of Lung Wa, strangeness is the new normal.

Bowing to her, he returns the introduction. "Kita Kyuichi, in service to the great Daimyo Po. Okane and I are pleased to make your acquaintance."

Without prompting, Okane lowers his head and shoulders and makes noises in a greeting of his own.

Looking sideways at Okane, Kita wonders at this sudden response.

As the elf attempts to open a door that is clearly intended to be closed, Kita eyes him with open suspicion, before returning the introduction of Chelk.

In a voice a bit too loud, he responds. "Hurry up and wait is ever the way of these encounters, Mr. Chelk. I suggest that we wait patiently and allow our contact to return. Breaking into his business or running around town when we have no idea of his whereabouts will provide no value."

No of-ffense taken. My name is R-remmy... my name in my t-tongue is a b-bit difficult to p-pronounce.

He gives a wide, sharp, toothy grin. A VERY sharp grin.

My b-brothers are not k-known for their d-diplomatic s-skills, for c-certain.

"Well, can't hang about in the street like wh-" - Chelk checks himself, remembering that there are ladies present - "er, like ragamuffins. Sun's over the yardarm. Fancy a quick sharpener somewhere?" He looks around hopefully for a tavern that doesn't look too dingy.

As the tide laps onto the jetty posts, the lock on the door clicks. A pockmarked faced man peers outside, his face creased with concern as he nods to you all in greeting. "You'll forgive me for making you wait, but my bait's the best in town, and sometimes I don't feel like sharing. Now please get in here." As he continues to checks outside, he ushers you all into a cramped front room, and closes the door again behind you. Once locked again, he looks you all up and down more closely.

"I'm Muesello, Venture-Captain of the Oppara Lodge. Well met, Pathfinders. Come in, come in." He walks to a well-weathered fishing pole rack in the back wall of the room and pushes the rack and the entire wall in on a hidden hinge. The secret door opens onto a comfortable sitting room already occupied by a distinguished-appearing lady sitting by a crackling fire.

Images

“I appreciate your answering my call,” Venture-Captain Muesello says with a subdued smile as he closes the room’s curtains and clears away an unfinished wayfinder to make space. “You may already know Lady Gloriana Morilla, and I shall explain why she’s joined us momentarily."

He sits at the table, making sure all of you have taken seats as well. "First, let us remember that General Arnisant, hero of the Shining Crusade, is one of the most highly regarded figures in Taldor’s history. Arnisant’s hometown of Ridonport has always been especially proud of him, and nearly nine centuries since his death, his home’s still preserved as a museum. The Society regularly submits requests to the museum to examine the historical artifacts there. Usually we get a polite and curt ‘no.’ Most recently, though?” Muesello tilts his head from side to side as if considering his words. “This time the curator, Cincia Reviamo, wrote that she cannot help because the local lord, Earl Calhadion Vernisant, has been taking undue liberties with the museum and its collection—apparently taking whatever he wants from it, claiming he has the right because he’s a direct descendant of General Arnisant. Taking priceless relics is one thing, but there’s another angle that Lady Morilla can explain better.”

Lady Gloriana Morilla picks up where Muesello left off. “Taldor has many great legacies, but there are some traditions better left in the past. The practice of primogeniture dictates that Taldor’s crown only passes to male heirs, yet the laws have been amended over time to allow women to inherit land and titles in some circumstances. Even so, the Lion,” Morilla states, motioning to a lion theme in her dress, as if the animal has special significance in this context, “the Lion has no male heir and seems utterly against his young Lioness leading the pride. It’s a stubborn stance that could condemn Taldor to civil war. I have spoken to many senators who also believe it’s time to update the empire’s inheritance laws. The Lion and his loyalists view this growing equality movement as a personal attack, even a coup. Among these is the Earl Vernisant, who would readily vote against reform just to become part of the Lion’s inner circle."

She smiles briefly. “Count Orlundo Zespire, however, is an undecided senator. Exports from his lands travel through Vernisant’s region, yet along the way many of the goods go missing as a result of canal piracy. Zespire suspects his colleague is at least negligent in allowing these crimes to transpire in his town—and possibly worse. It seems this isn’t the first misunderstanding between the two, and the count has informed me that he would be in the Lioness’s debt were she able to arrange someone to resolve the matter. If that also involves finding evidence that ties Vernisant to criminal elements, making that evidence public would cause the earl considerable distress and bring the count considerable joy. Just keep in mind that no matter what evidence you find, you’ll need to convince Ridonport’s citizens to trust you before they’ll take your word over that of General Arnisant’s descendant.”

Muesello clears his throat before adding, “Just to be clear, the Society’s interest is in stopping Vernisant’s relic-pilfering and getting in the curator’s good graces. It so happens that Lady Morilla’s and the Society’s aims overlap nicely. Visit the museum, talk to the curator, figure out how to protect the collection, and investigate the earl’s alleged misdeeds. Any questions?” He smiles at Lady Gloriana, who inclines her head gracefully to the Venture-Captain.

Know(Nobles): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22

Kita bristles when piracy is mentioned, then relaxes when it becomes clear that he will not actually be asked to work WITH pirates again.

"None are above the law.

Most excellent!"

Kita stops to consider the situation.

"It seems that a stakeout or sting should be the first order of business. That will allow us to locate the pirates and begin tracking them to their origins. Is the museum planning any shipments in the near future?"

Chelk’s eyes glaze over at all the talk of Lions and politics, and he is grateful when the Venture Captain drags the conversation back to more practical matters.

”Right. Chappie’s pilfering the family silver. Rum do. We get him debagged and radished at his club and the Society boffos get a gander at the trinkets. Good show.”

He considers Kita’s words. ”Steady on old man, might be worth having a word with this curator gal first, you know. She might have some idea of the lie of the land.”

The elegant elf sits legs crossed with one knee atop the other and listens quietly to the briefing. A smirk happens across the normally expressionless face and seems to take root when Lady Morilla gives her exposition. He then raises his hands together, fingertips touching, and lightly taps his smirking mouth as if in thought.

"Tell me Lady Morilla," the dashing elf begins charmingly, "the citizens of Ridenport, do they know of the tension betwixt the Count and the Earl?"

Remmy excitedly clicks his claws together.

Oh! My... what a opp-pportunity! The chance to examine such r-relics... Oh, yes, and plots... and things.

It's pretty clear where the rats devotion lies.

But to s-steal away the art-tifacts where none can see them! What a t-t-travesty! You are c-correct, we s-should s-speak to the curator about the s-situation.. maybe make a g-g-good name around town...

Lady Morilla answers the elf Uzziah directly: "The citizens of Ridenport live in the shade of the legend of General Arnisant. If they had any clue as to the friction between two nobles well above their station, one of whom was the direct descendant of the veritable god that called their town home, would they care much?"

She stops herself. "Well, Pathfinders, that is what we are hoping for. The short answer to your question is 'no', Master Potus."

Venture-Captain Muesello adds on: "I'd recommend to begin building your case by visiting with Cincia Reviamo, the curator of the Arnisant family museum. She might have some ideas about how to sway public opinion. You'll be journeying via ship along the Jagged Saw into Ridonport. The Golden Mane, I believe, a naval ship headed to Cassomir. It will take 2-3 days, give or take. We've secured passage for the six of you. The museum is a short walk from where you'll disembark. Any further questions?"

Kita sighs heavily.

"Always with the boats. I'd better go get Okane some exercise now."

"If you don't have any more questions, Pathfinders, then I'll suggest you make your preparations to depart by the end of the day. You can find your vessel at the northeast end of the docks." Venture-Captain Muesello stands up, signalling an end to the briefing.

Some of you may have some idea about where you're going; still others might decide to ask around.

Remmy shuffles out of the bait shop, muttering something about needing limes and citrus to bolster the ships food, and wanders off to purchase supplies for the trip.

No applicable knowledge or diplo here!

While exercising Okane, Kita encounters a contingent of the Taldan Horse running through some maneuvers.

He stops to chat with the commanders and share war stories, making an attempt to steer the conversation toward Arnisant.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (5) + 7 = 12

Unfortunately, since Ridonport is a harbor, the cavalry have very little experience with the town. All he is able to learn is that Ridonport is in the Tandak Prefecture.

Wearing the same charming smirk, the elf nods to Marilla's response and continues, "If I may ask but a few more questions. What were the other misunderstandings betwixt the Count and the Earl? Is the Earl actually a descendant of the General? And finally, do any parties know of our mission?

”The Earl is quite firmly a Loyalist. It is the Count who has not yet thrown his chapeau into the ring for either party. Current or future events would likely sway his opinion. Most of the previous misunderstandings surrounded the disappearance of the Count’s goods in trade avenues protected by the Earl. Do make sure not to get your nobles confused.” Lady Morilla’s tone compassionately chastises.

Venture-Captain Muesello pitches in. ”The naval officers on your ship know that they are transporting Pathfinders, but they are an honourable crew. The museum curator is expecting you as well - as Pathfinders - to aid her in restoring the integrity of her collection. Your other aims are your own.”

You may all read the first spoiler - DC 10 - above as Kita will share that information with you.

Know (Local): 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (1) + 12 = 13
Know (Local): 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (18) + 12 = 30
Know (Local): 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (9) + 12 = 21

You only make one Knowledge Local check, Uzziah. The first one - the 13 - is the one that counts. Your character only knows the first spoiler info.

my misunderstanding

You're shuffled out of Muesello's bait and tackle shop. Once you complete any personal business (i.e. purchases) in Oppara, you find your way to the Golden Mane. Your passage indeed has been secured and you come aboard with no issues.

The journey by ship along the Jagged Saw and into Ridonport passes uneventfully. Your weather is favourable and the seas are smooth. Once you arrive, you're told by the first mate that the Arnisant museum is a short walk from the docks, where it stands surrounded by numerous old homes and within view of the 200-foot-tall statue of General Arnisant in the small city’s main square.

You're left to your own devices to disembark and set forth into Ridonport.

Sorry, I am GMing and attending a local Con ^^

Segray follows Muesello and Lady Morilla's speech with interest. She nods, having no question of her own.

Oh what a lovely play we're about to live!

In the city, she decides to ask around more information about the place the party's traveling to.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (15) + 10 = 25

When she gets back to the party, she shares what she learned, listening first to Kita's knowledge. "Well, I found an innkeeper that was really knowledgeable about Tandak Prefecture. He said that its economy relies heavily on logging in the Verduran Forest, and generations of intensive farming have left the land largely unsuitable for most crops. Even so, the extensive canal system makes transporting goods to and from the coast fairly easy—or it would, if many of the secondary routes hadn’t fallen into disrepair."

She pauses, looking at her fellow agents to acknowledge if they're following, before adding: "The innkeeper also knew that Tandak Prefecture has suffered political turmoil ever since the previous grand duke Forath Bozbeyli was stripped of his title for having fabricated a heroic past. He was later torn to pieces by the prefecture’s common people for having deceived them. Even though 7 years have passed since then, nobles in the area hope that this one violent incident was an exception, not a sign of future retaliation. The commoners tend to remember the incident with a mix of pride and chagrin, both embarrassed by the destruction they caused yet pleased at having overthrown a pompous buffoon."

Kita congratulates Segray on the useful information.

"Excellently done! The people value honesty, and are willing to stand up for themselves.

Still, I wonder how difficult it will be for them to believe any evidence that we provide rather than their own nobles."

Upon arriving at at Ridonport, Kita decides that a grand entrance of an arriving hero come to learn more about the General Arnisant will draw the correct kind of attention.

He stows his Wayfinder, but wears his full armor, sashimono displayed proudly over his shoulder, and stirge mask affixed to his helm.

Once Okane has been offloaded, he will mount up and proceed to the statue at a parade walk, Okane's hooves ringing off of the pavement.

Once he reaches the statue, he will dismount, stand at attention before the statue, and then bow deeply. Holding the bow will speak words (in Tien) of respect to the General and other worthy ancestors of Taldor.

He will then stand and remove the mask from his helm before locating the museum and slowly approaching the doors. He will find a place to leave Okane and enter the museum once the others approach.

GM roll: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (19) + 7 = 26

Kita's parade draws a small crowd of onlookers, curious at the arrival of the well-dressed and honourable military champion who wishes to give tribute to the local hero. A smattering of applause follows Kita's words in Tien. A helpful citizen comes forward as he looks for a place for his mount's reins.

"I can take that for you, Sir," the young man replies. "No trouble at all! Will you be long at the museum? My stables are just there," and he points at a stable yard just off the main circle. "The only payment I'd ask is your name, good Sir. It's rare to see folks of your like in these parts. I'm Rogan, if it's any interest of yours. Rogan Surethwistle."

The elf silently applauds Segray for her useful information.

On the trip on the Golden Mane he keeps to himself unless engaged, quietly observing the rest of the team at different intervals. All the while he also fiddles with a strangely sized deck of cards.

At dock the elf sees Kita's display beginning and decides to follow from a a short distance, gauging the citizen reaction with interest.

Remmy titters a bit at the display. But stays back, just a shadowy figure in a cloak... don't all heroic types have a weedly adviser anyways?

The museum door proclaims 'OPEN' on a small sign hanging from the handle. The entrance opens to a large sitting room. The furnishings are aging, albeit clean and free of dust. The walls are crowded with portraits, framed letters, and genealogical charts. Several glass cases protect more fragile items.

On the wall just to the right of the front doors hangs a 4-by-6-foot painting of a noble-looking figure looking dramatically into the distance with the crown-and-lion standard of Taldor waving behind him. As you look at it, you see that the flag actually moves, and the painted noble nods stately in your direction if you look for longer than a few seconds.

A small plaque under the portrait is labeled 'Earl Calhadion Vernisant'. No one is in the main sitting room.

(The Portrait)

The elf scans the room and, noticing the genealogical charts, begins looking for the General's chart.

Perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (16) + 10 = 26

"The only payment I'd ask is your name, good Sir. It's rare to see folks of your like in these parts. I'm Rogan, if it's any interest of yours. Rogan Surethwistle."

Removing his helmet, Kita bows his head to Rogan. "I am Kita Kyuichi, Samurai from Po Li, and I thank you, Rogan Surethwistle."

Ignoring any further protestations, Kita will press a gold piece into Rogan's hand.

"If you would, make sure he gets some exercise. Okane hates boats."

Handing over the reins to Rogan, and admonishing Okane to behave himself, Kita will follow the others into the museum, taking special notice of the letters. Are any of them personal in nature?

Remmy looks around, squeaking excitedly and muttering to himself about all the THINGS here!

Apparently, he still has kept the "Pack rat" nature of his people, as he scampers about.

The entire genealogical chart maps the General's family, beginning with his great-grandparents' lineage from over a thousand years ago. Many of the letters framed on the wall are stamped with ancient-appearing Taldan seals, marking them as official military documents. A few letters lay under glass cases, most of which do not bear official crests, suggesting that their personal nature.

GM roll: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8

Before you're able to investigate further, a woman in her late twenties with dark black curly hair, dark eyes, and an olive complexion enters the room. She wears reading glasses and walks with a cane. Her kind smile feels inviting. "You must be the Pathfinders that I'm to expect, per your Captain Muesello. I am Cincia Reviamo, curator to the House of General Arnisant. Would you kindly sign the visitors book? We can then speak about business in a study room upstairs that I've prepared for your use."

(Cincia Reviamo)

Having spent most of the river journey telling rather boring warstories, and drinking from his hipflask, Chelk is keen to stretch his legs on dry land, and has a brief wander around the main square while Kita addresses the crowd.

Eyeing the enormous statue, he mutters to himself "Bit de trop, as they say in Galt."

At the museum Chelk quickly scans the genealogies on the wall hoping to see his own family crest represented, and immediately loses interest when it isn't. He is about to scan the personal letters for some saucy details when the curator enters and makes her invitations.

"How do you do, madam?" he intones with a courteous bow. "Chelk of House Hurzon-Charanthis-Metholis - I dare say my folks crop up occasionally in these ancestries of yours, eh? Looking forward to getting down to business with the aid of a proper cup of tea - sailor johnnies were jolly nice chaps and all, but couldn't whistle up a proper brew for toffee."

He signs the visitors' book in careful, neat handwriting.

"A pleasure, indeed, Master Chelk," replies Cincia, watching with interest as the others sign the visitors' book.

The elf gracefully maneuvers over to the visitors' book and begins flipping through it curiously. "It is good to see such a filled book. People's heroes and heritage are paramount in defining who they are."
Uzziah looks for a signature of the Earl
Perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (19) + 10 = 29

He then sets down the book and signs:
Threndalil Narethain

His gaze the falls on the curator as a charming smile emerges on his mouth. "And where are my manners?" He walks over to Cincia while removing a glove, "Madame Curator, I am Threndalil Narethain," gently taking her non-cane hand he bows and gives her hand a peck. "The pleasure is all mine. It is truly an honor to work with you. I have oh so many questions, but they are not related to business, so they shall wait. Now," he says with a wide gesture, "which way to the study room?"

Bluff or Diplo if wanted: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (11) + 11 = 22
+2 more if it is Bluff

Remmy dips a claw in the ink and scratches... well, some scratches that are probably ratfolk for his real name. Once he finishes he wipes the ink on his black cloak and listens carefully... and sniffs a few times, getting the curator's scent for later.

Just in case.

Cincia flushes slightly at the elf's attention. "Oh, it's just Cincia, really. A pleasure to meet you as well. Would you all kindly follow me?" She walks with her cane out of the room, leading your group upstairs into a small conference room where she has some water and grapes set out.

"Please sit and help yourselves to a snack. I do thank the Pathfinder Society and your Captain Muesello for sending help. I've worked here for a number of years, and while I've had my concerns in the past, I feel that things have gotten a bit out of hand more recently." She makes her way steadily around the table, puts down her cane, and settles into a seat.

"The museum owns the contents and operates mostly on donations, but that doesn’t stop Earl Vernisant from treating it as his personal property. He sends his people to take anything he likes from the collection, but I almost prefer that to when he adds things, which he's started doing more recently. Have you met his painting? That’s just one example, but there are more. There's the genealogy exhibit, which Vernisant commissioned when he found out that the mortal Iomedae spent some time with General Arnisant during the Shining Crusade. The earl added a chart to the display, and it’s the only document I’ve ever seen that suggests the Inheritor is one of his ancestors. That she and General Arnisant…then children…it’s not even…” Cincia struggles to voice her dismay, finally settling for a frazzled groan that ends with, “I have questions.”

She continues after shifting in her seat to relieve some physical discomfort. “You may have seen the mannequins—I managed to assemble four full sets of armor to represent Taldor’s major armies in the Shining Crusade: the Phalanx, the Horse, the Navy, and the Knights of Ozem. Unfortunately, Vernisant learned that the Knight of Ozem’s helmet is magical, so he had it relocated to his private collection for ‘study.’" She sips on a glass of water and pushes her spectacles up on her nose.

“If you want this museum to be a useful source of anything other than propaganda, we will need to keep Vernisant away from it. So what are you going to do?”

sense motive: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23

Remmy makes a noise very similar to a hiss and shakes his head.

T-to t-treat such historical artifacts as nothing more than t-trinkets to be manipulated at a w-whim! And even w-worse, to alter historical r-records for p-propaganda p-purposes is just s-shameful!

The other pathfinders don't even need to sense motive to see that the little rat is genuinely upset.

The Earl w-will need to be c-convinced p-post haste of his f-folly!

He leans forward, putting his head on folded claws, shifting his glasses a bit.

I assume outright k-killing him would be less than p-preferable, though he deserves it for s-such s-scheming. I don't s-suppose he can be s-simply r-reasoned with either.

He clicks his claws together, thinking, then seems to have a lightbulb.

W-w-what if...

He gives a toothy grin.

His p-p-proposed revisions are clearly unf-founded. P-perhaps a d-distribution of a acc-ccurate acc-ccount would teach him not to t-touch s-such t-things?

“I say” exclaims Chelk “ I hope you’re not suggesting we bump the fellow off. Rotter he may be, but the chap’s still an earl. That’s not playing a straight bat at all. And it could get the Society onto a bit of a sticky wicket if the cat got out the bag.”

He looks around hopefully for some tea, and sighs when he sees none. “Do you know what he’s doing with the stuff he pilfers? Selling them on? Is he short of money? Many old families are you know. But his interest in the bloodlines maybe suggests politics? Is he angling for a good marriage maybe? But trying to claim divine ancestry - well, the nerve of the man. He’d have to be aiming pretty bally high to justify that....” His eyebrows arch suddenly. “The princess is unmarried. Any any fellow hitched to her would have a half-decent claim to the throne when...”

He sinks into silence.

Despite the solid blue sky outside, a sudden crash of lightning and thunder can be seen and heard out the window. The thunder, in particular, seems to linger longer than it should, only to transition into the thunder of exceptionally large hoofbeats as a carriage rattles its way up to the museum before coming to a gratingly-abrupt halt. There is a moment of silence, then the hoofbeats thunder away into the distance, followed by the clicking of fine boots and the creaking of doors - but these are coming toward you.

A few seconds later, into the room strides an unnaturally, tall, attractive, and well-groomed man in Ustalavic noble attire under fine armor with flowing white hair, smooth grey skin, gleaming golden eyes like a pair of newly-minted coins, a wickedly-gleaming dagger at his side, and a stout dark shield engraved with heraldry and a frightfully long sword on his back, somehow not at all impeding the flowing of his fine cape.

"How do? I fear 'fashionably late' is becoming a bit of a habit for me. I am Viscount Mercutio Byron Menschjaeger - yes, of House Menschjaeger. Anyways, I understand there's been some trouble with the local peers behaving a bit...*ha-ha* 'Taldan', shall we say? You wouldn't have these sorts of infantile peccadilloes in Ustalav, of that I can assure you! Other peccadilloes, but of course, but not such as THESE! Try to rewrite the history of the peerage up THERE, and next thing you'd know, you'd be face-to-face with the original author of said history, who penned the first edition about 800 years ago now, and every edition since! Hmph!"

Perform (Sing) in lieu of Sense Motive: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (8) + 8 = 16

Mercutio has little trouble recognizing the curator's state based on her heavy, yet restrained, breaths. He doesn't just hear her anger, he hears the reason for it: A grave insult to rightful status and dignity.

He begins perusing the room, with its books and exhibits...

Knowledge (Nobility): 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (15) + 15 = 30

...asking the curator pointed, insightful question after pointed, insightful question, interspersed with the occasional erudite critique and spot-on correction, about almost every piece he sets his intense gaze on.

Kita taps his lips thoughtfully.

"Chelk, your theory of the Earl's motivation makes sense, especially given what we know of the Lion's opinion about inheritance. Knowing his motivation may help us in the future.

Cincia, can you explain to us how the Earl connects his heritage to that of the General? Knowing the linchpin of his genealogy will let us know where we need to strike."

Mercutio, you’re able to ask questions in the conference room upstairs, where Cincia relocated you after greeting you.

Cincia looks shocked at Remmy's first suggestion. "I agree, sir, that his deeds are most foul and run counter to all that I stand for as an accurate reporter of history, but please do not suggest that capital punishment is the answer! There have been those in our not-so-distant past here in Ridonport that would've looked upon your suggestion as just, but not I. This is what I meant when I spoke to your Captain Muesello about the mixed reputation of the Pathfinders! How am I to know that I won't have the city guard knocking at my door asking if I know you?"

Cincia calms somewhat at Kita's words. "I know someone who can help us with the Earl's lineage via government records. Joleana Tantriano is our senior magistrate. She can get you access to Ridonport's official birth and death records. You'd be able to cross-check the veracity of his claims there and provide unassailable authority to his incredible claim. Additionally, if you find out Vernisant’s doing anything illegal, you can take it to her at the courthouse. If you’re looking for further evidence of Vernisant’s misdeeds beyond his disrespect for history, I can recommend a few people you’d do well to meet. There’s Rasvelg, the head of the shipwright’s guild. You’ll find him at the wharf most days. Patrician Neffery Adimare is a minor noble who owns the ship’s chandlery that supplies the navy. He likes to sit in there and listen to the naval officers’ stories.”

Remmy shakes his head.

F-f-forgive me. It was a j-jest... mostly. I am here for my exp-p-pertise in ac-cademic matters, n-n-not my leaders-ship s-skills or t-t-tact.

He gives a smile... which unfortunately since it shows off his razor sharp teeth, probably doesn't help any.

I p-p-promise, I have n-n-no intention of k-killing the e-e-earl, or anyone else. I n-never saw the p-p-point in k-k-killing anything that c-can't be c-c-cooked if you c-can help it.

He listens intently and pulls out a scrap of parchment and writes down the names of the people they should go look for.

We'll s-speak with them each in t-turn... and p-protect this museum the b-b-est we c-can.