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"This could either be better for us because it will expedite the process or bad for us because this Giovenci will take some special interest and demand some special action...or just try to kill us. Knowing the luck that comes with most missions for the Pathfinder Society, I suspect it will be the latter," Djorn commented.
"In either case, I should likely look the part. Anyone else need better clothes to present themselves to a Magistrate?" he asks, plucking at his plain clothing.
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The letter is a formal invitation to "the members of the esteemed Pathfinder Society" to join "his excellency the Magister of Khari" for supper the next day. It gives directions as to where to go and whom to present the letter to.
The Pathfinders, not seeing any harm in playing by the rules decide to freshen up, rest and put down some coin to make themselves presentable. Esh, however takes the opportunity afforded to him by having an extra day to try and get some information about the man. Perhaps due to his planar heritage, he does not manage to get much information. He does end up getting in a rather lively chat with a older leatherworker, who does tell him that Mavius Giovenci is a cousin of the lord-mayor of Khari: Marsiol Giovency. "'Cause of that, our magistrate takes advantage of his station to enjoy all the little pleasures the city has to offer. The big ones too." He guffaws, before rubbing his acid-etched hands on his pants. "His palanquin is seen all regular like on the street as his lordship travels between his mansion, the opera, three upper-end whorehouses, and the finest inns."
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As it turns out, lord Giovancy's proclivities are known to many, and as you meet up you come to find out you stumbled upon variations on the same theme. But soon it is time and, dressed up to the nines, you make your way to the Lord Magistrate's manor, a modestly sized building of polished sandstone and red silks, the proud flag of Cheliax flapping in the wind above it's highest cupola. At the gates, past the guards, a halfling servant grabs your invitations, and with a bow guides you to a terrace overlooking the bay and the Arch of Aroden.
"Welcome, welcome, please be seated!" says jovially the impressively rotund man seated amidst heaps of pillows and water pipes, a smile on his dark-haired face as he snaps his fingers towards the halfling who bows and immediately make his way back inside. The air is humid, and on the horizon, thunderclouds gather, slowly making their way south. "Dear guests, please take the opportunity to relax and enjoy yourselves. I have made sure there will be plenty of local delicacies for you to partake of tonight, and the wine is quite exquisite. And while I’m sure you’re eager to get down to business, yet there’ll be time for that later. As the Varisians say: "Why do today what you can do tomorrow?" He guffaws at his own joke, as plates upon plates upon plates of food are brought out, alongside wine and even some Osiriani beer! "Please! Eat! You wouldn't want cook to have slaved over all this for nothing!" he jokes before grabbing onto a steaming hot kebab and tearing into it with gusto. It takes him only moments to finish his dish before he reaches for another. And another. And another. All the while washing it down with beer, wine and rose water.
It occurs to you that you could perhaps try and match his gluttony. Knowing he isn't the only one eating as much may gain some form of favor with him. However, eating this much this fast is a talent, one that is cultivated. There might be repercussions for you down the line, even if you avoid the spicy foods.
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Nuo's waterskin turns purple.
She begins to eat at a normal pace. "Oh. This... this food is quite good." She stutters as he talks, clearly uncomfortable in this kind of situation.
Qiang: You should eat up for the adventure ahead. It will give you energy to do the task at hand.
Nuo: I know, brother. How many times do I have to remind you I'm an adult now?
Qiang: You're always my younger sister, and when I died...
Nuo: Stop reminding me of when you died...
Qiang: Very well, I will stay silent for now and pipe up if I feel I can be of assistance.
Nuo: You don't have to be so formal...
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Aiden sits and takes a skewer of kebab and a cup of wine. He drains the wine cup almost immediately. [b]"Magister, thank you for inviting us. This is fantastic. It's nice to see the benefits of your station aren't wasted. Lavishments are meant to be enjoyed!"[b]
He snaps his fingers at the halfling for him to refill his wine, while he tears into the kebab. While Aiden doesn't partake in the amount of food the Magister does, he does make a show of eating with similar gusto and displaying that he isn't afraid of the spiciness.
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"It is clear you have done well for yourself Magister and, as my companion has said, it is a waste not to fully enjoy the benefits of your success," Djorn chimes in.
He has been hungry often enough that he will not pass up free food when it is offered, even if it is offered in excessive quantities. He is less eager about the wine, knowing how dangerous it can be to dull one's senses when on a mission.
He falls on the food with gusto. Doing his best to keep up with their host.
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"Why thank you , both of you! It is good to see that you have an appetite" offers lord Giovancy as Djorn, Esh and he finally finish their meals, well after everyone else. The Pathfinder feels slightly nauseous after all the food ingested, but it does seem that the Magister has taken a liking to him.
He turns to you with a smile, as he snaps his fingers and another set of halfling servants come around with hot, moist towels for you to wipe your hands with. "I would not want to have you get your things dirty, especially given the care you have taken in dressing for the occasion. You would be stunned to know how many people think this is a plebeian affair."
He looks over the low wall of the balcony and continues "This weather, nothing quite like it. I find it helps me think. Prods my processive juices if you will. How about a friendly game of Siege? Unless one of you would like to accompany the coming of the storm with a good Chelish opera!" he chuckles, not really expecting anyone here to be able to sing as he snaps his fingers again and the servants return with a fine Siege game set.
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While he wasn't about to match guts with this man, Nectanebo is more than willing - indeed, eager - to match wits with him. Who cares if he turns out to be a poor sport...?
"Well, that was a bit of fun, wasn't it?" Declares Nectanebo cheerfully after having run cerebral circles around his opponent on the board.
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While the pathfinders are able to win two games in quick succession, it does not seem like their host appreciates their ability. "The game gets stale anyway once one figures the underlying principles" he comments dryly, motioning for the servants to take the board away. "No need for any narration of Chelish opera; now would be a better time for you to perhaps give me more details about this little... Expedition you plan on embarking upon. And while I am familiar with the tactic of just letting the silver-tongued one speak while the others sit and nod demurely, I would hear from at least two of you, or more" he states a little more tartly than one would expect.
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Wow this dude knows his way with adventurers!
Esh grins widely. "But of course ! Enough games were played, isn't it ? You do oh so well to remember my young... associates this basic principle." he says, staring at the others.
"We came in here because our... contractor, Lady Alazario, sent us to retrieve... artifacts for the museum of Corentyn. Sir Aiden here is the official chelish envoy." finishes the ganzi, showing Aiden with his hand.
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The Magister, still looking rather peeved, nods at the mention of lady Alazario. "That overblown sea-cow. Asmodeus's bounties elevate passerby as they say." He drums his fingers upon the gems on the rings of his closed left fist for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts. "I have heard many things about Pathfinders. The Nidalese envoy, when he stops on by, mentions how you violate his country's sovereign borders without fail and cause endless trouble for the Midnight Lord's flock." He shrugs, expressing his doubts wordlessly before continuing: "I would hear from the horse's mouth, so to speak: Tell me a little more about your exploits. All of you. Although, considering the proportion of you who have not spoken, perhaps pantomime, or art is an acceptable substitute?"
He reaches for his cup as he adds: "I am curious who I might potentially be opening the gates to my town for. Clearly, you are good at "little games" and do have the backing of the crown, but I won't have you using this to cause political trouble."
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"I would gladly paint you a picture were that where my talents lie, Magister. But the reason I have let others speak for me is because they are better at it. Just as I am sure that you do not cook your own meals or craft your own jewelry, we Pathfinders let those most skilled at a task perform a task rather than having those without a talent for it try to bumble their way through," Djorn answers.
"As you can tell by the way I am rambling on, speaking is not my strong suit. My talents lie more in making my way in the wilds than in civilization."
"For instance, I know that the most dangerous thing you can do in a frozen land is let your clothing get wet, that the sand can flay the flesh from your bones in minutes if the wind is strong enough during a storm in the desert and that it is often the smallest creatures who are the most dangerous in a jungle, whether because of numbers or venom. I also know ways to avoid all those dangers and how to ensure that my companions and I don't starve along the way."
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Aiden chuckles at the Magister's assessment of the Chelish representative. "Well as you can see we have a bunch of varied talents in the group. Some learn things quickly and others have more physical skills to uncover the artifacts at the site. While I might fall into either category, my specific skills are more specialized."
He slowly rolls up his sleeves and then selects a curved knife off his belt. "You see, when all else fails, sometimes the dirty work is all that's left. That's when I usually get called in. I've cowed a werewolf and made fey regret their tricks." He gives the Magister a small smile. "When people are unhelpful to us and try to waste our time, they might suddenly realize that they should change their tune."
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Esh's grin widens even more, almost to inhumanoid's width. He takes a pose and his eyes go black. "Oh, dear Magister. Have you yet heard this tale? Far across the seas, below the deepest ocean lies a mystical land of shadows. Its inhabitants like meager shadow imitations of gnomes named 'wayangs' used to have a ritual to tame their underground volcano but failed to do it due to occult forces."
Esh waits for the suspense to build up and when the tension is at its climax, he declares with a sudden change of tone: "That's when the pathfinder society came to help these ones, fading into the culture perfectly to play the wayang's ancestral scene. The people saved, they offered their eternal and shadowy gratitude to the society!"
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Nectanebo paces about the room, looking at their host's various furnishings.
"Well would you look at this?" He says, gingerly picking up an ale stein of elaborately carved ivory from the mantle. "This is part of a set, isn't it? I believe I saw a few of the others back in the Gloomspires. The owner was an old pirate captain who'd become a ghoul. Same artist as the enchanted bas-relief of the autophagic hag we saw there - I'd be very careful with this, if I were you!" He chuckles before moving on to a painting on the wall of some ill-fated Isgeri rebels surrendering to Hellknights. "'The Last Stand of Isger', by Cliodoro, correct? You know, clear on the matter as Chelaxian and Isgeri texts may be on the subject, for the rest of the world there's cause for a great deal more controversy over the claim that Cliodoro was a loyalist who painted this to celebrate the final quashing of Isgeri resistance to Hell on Golarion. He may well, in fact, have painted it to preserve a piece of forbidden history. I'm not sure he'd appreciate being boxed in between the illuminated Asmodean verse and your lovely portrait of Queen Abrogail here," He indicates the two works flanking the painting. "You might want to know that I saw another painting much like this one in a haunted Isgeri manor. I hope you weren't under the impression that this is the original, because it might not be. The Hellknights are positioned all wrong for the supposed circumstances, you see. Makes me hope all the more someone was able to retrieve that other painting. We had to make a hasty escape before the manor...devoured itself."
"Oh, don't look so surprised. I'm a connoisseur of fine art, and hidden gems. They call me 'The Vulture' for multiple reasons," He says, conspicuously adjusting the pronounced collar on his long coat. "But one is my reputation for looking for - and with some regularity, finding - treasures in places most would fear to look. That's simply the way the world is: The best, most beautiful, and most powerful of things are most likely found in the dark, the deep, the forgotten...and in the most questionable of company." He raises an eyebrow.
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Mavius Giovency may not like being defeated, but displays of actual talent... Those are rare indeed. And then there is Aiden. "Aha! Heh" he erupts uncomfortably as his smile becomes a tad forced. "Well it is clear to me that you are indeed qualified representatives of your organisation. Troublemakers aren't usually capable of displaying such talent. Anyway. Ahem. I think we should make sure you get on your way as soon as dawn comes tomorrow! I'll make sure you aren't bothered by any collector asking for a "fee". After all, we are all on a mission to elevate the Empire to it's proper place! An empire of order that rules over all that it deems unruly!"
He gets up, perhaps a bit too fast. "I will not bother you with any more trivialities. I am happy to see you appreciate my little collection by the way! And such eloquence! Ahem. I do hope you've enjoyed yourselves, and I bid you a good night." For a man his size, he moves with surprising speed and soon you are left on your own, with the servants refilling your drinks one last time before beginning to clear the remainder of the meal away.
Your trip from the gates of Khari up till now has been an uneventful one thanks to the map provided to you by the Athenaeum. However, as you approach your final destination, you do spot strange cloud formations overhead, as if the clouds were being dragged across the heavens.