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The elf wades in the crowd rather naturally, seemingly accustomed to dealing with social occasions like this one. His first move is to get a glass of champagne, which will eventually prove to last him a couple hours. Ever the social drinker, Kynrac mostly keeps a safe distance from his glass, wishing to keep a clear mind for the social encounters to come.
His next move is made towards Nigel Aldain, which he proceeds to greet with respect. Yet something in the lorekeeper's attitude suggests that he's a bit friendlier towards the elf than he would be for a member of any other race.
Greetings, esteemed curator. It seems we were bound to meet again, and I like to think it is for the best. Truth be told, I'm happy to meet you in another context than the Blakros museum - luckily we're far away from any Mwangi curses or other mischief that befell you in the past. But enough with such triffles. I'm sure you'd like nothing more but to forget these dreary events. Might I say that your wife looks lovely tonight? How lucky you are to be a part of this prestigious family.
On another topic, I've recently come back from an extended trip to Varisia. An interesting journey indeed, but which proved fraught with dangers. Those Thassilonian relics were not worth the trouble, I'm afraid. A Lissalan cult harrassed us through and through, keeping those artifacts from the past from us at every corner. I've even heard some cases of... curses affecting those relics!
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Barnabus eschews any alcohol, but picks up some fruit juice and stands silently by the rail for a couple minutes, watching the crowd. When Kynrac approaches Nigel, Barnabus appears as if from nowhere, having sidled up to them unnoticed. "Ah've been on a cahple missions at the Museum meself." he says. "Ahnd eht's guhd te see yeh again. Ye prahbably wouldn't remehmber meh though. Thaht were early in me cehreer." His moustache waggles as he chuckles. "Beht ye were glad we got thaht Ghoul thaht were trahpped in the atticks, eh." he says.
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Terrill scans the table of drinks in vain for some sort of ale – a hearty stout or a refreshing lager – but finds none. A drink with some substance would be nice, but not what these folk go in for, it seems. He selects a glass of a the darkest red he can find and pops a couple of meatballs in his mouth as he makes his way over to talk to Alexander Bedard. I see the old blowhard is at it again, and keeping that poor deckhand from his job while he’s at it. Well, perhaps all his talking will tighten the sails a bit and get us there all the quicker. Let’s see if I can’t make small talk with a fellow Andoren, even if he’s one who favors talk over action.
”Good evening, sir, “ he says to Bedard, as smoothly as he is able. ”Judging from your naval appearance and your obvious knowledge of the workings of this vessel, I presume you are Alexander Bedard, of the Andoren People’s Council? I am Terrill Mayern, also of Andoran, though it is some time since I have been in our homeland. If you don’t mind my saying so, I have heard great tales of your strong stances during Council debates, and it is an honor to meet someone who so boldly stands for freedom. Tell me, if you would, how fared the lovely city of Almas when you left it?”
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The Paracountess' advances certainly left the more martial-minded samurai in quite the tizzy. Blushing beet red and sputtering like a babbling brook, the Minkaian warrior, for the first time in his life, was completely thrown off. He had guarded captive goblins, crusaded against cultists, tangled with traitors, and even grappled with giant gorillas. But this foe was unlike anything he had ever fought in his entire career as a Pathfinder. This foe had cunning, poise, charisma, beauty, and cleav-...er...clever manipulations. Taking the Paracountess' hand, Mifune rose to this challenge and placed a gentle kiss upon her forehand, following by offering his shoulder for her to lean upon.
"Er...yes. That is...quite. This one is most honored to have drawn the Paracountess' eye...in the purely platonic sense, of course, Lady Dralneen. Quite stuffy, this weather at sea."
Adjusting his robes nervously, Mifune began to busy his free hand with loosening the folds of his ashen hakama, nervous and fretful like a greenhorn on the eve of his first big battle. Sighing heavily, Mifune gave the Paracountess a quiet apology as he began to maneuver towards the man of Tian-Hwan descent.
"This one offers his most profuse apologies, Paracountess. Beauty and grace of your caliber has left this one dumbfounded...please, accept this one's inadequacies."
Kynrac and Jakarno,
Nigel nods to the duo as you approach him, although unlike Kynrac's obvious friendliness the curator seems far less amicable to the pair of you than you might otherwise expect. A pained expression flickers over his face, first at the mention of the damnable Tik Taan and then of the twisted ghoul making lair in his attic. Bad memories, no doubt.
"Yes... it is certainly good that we can meet outside of the museum," Nigel says cooly, looking into his own wine glass and slowly sloshing the red liquid around as he speaks. "Grateful as I am for what you two did back then, I'm sure you understand when I say that I hope I never have the Society return. It's not exactly the best reflection on my competence as a curator."
He merely smiles weakly at the compliment of his wife. Dhrami, at present, is a short distance away, talking and laughing with another man. Nigel understandably does not look too pleased.
"Varisia, you say?" The elf murmurs, suddenly much more interested in the topic than the previous ones. "I've heard the Society has much interest in the region. The Blakros Museum has its own interests there as well. We recently liberated an ancient Thassilonian carving depicting the Runelord Alaznist, actually. Quite the outstanding work... I've never seen anything like it, style-wise."
He smiles, a proud twinkle in his eyes. "But, my; what difficulty you seem to have had! We've certainly had no such troubles... I have all intentions of opening a new exhibit at the Museum in the coming months to show off all of our marvellous finds." Nigel continues with obviously faux sincerity, his voice dripping with barely-contained cynicism, "It is such a shame that the Decemvirate merely locks up everything you work so hard to obtain."
Nigel pauses at Kynrac's suggestion of curses, however; perhaps for a moment he even pales. The memory of the Mists of Mwangi is no doubt a sore one. "What have you heard about... those curses?"
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Terril,
Bedard turns about at the smooth voice greeting him, his dark frown at being interrupted mid-talk about some irrelevant minutiae about the ship's make immediately melted away by Terril's silver tongue. The sailor shoots the half-elf a grateful smile before rapidly booking it out of there.
"Well met, Terrill!" the barrel-chested councilman says with obvious gusto, extending his hand for a handshake; his grip is strong and confident. [b]"I am honoured that you recognised me! I am not at all the most well known of the People's Council, after all; I have neither the family name nor the lauded history to rely on, only my hard work and determination. Thank the Gods that our beloved nation allows a working-class sort such as myself to rise so high!" His patriotism is loud and clear - and garnering him more than a couple of dirty looks from nearby onlookers. You can hardly expect less from an Andoran councilman, though, really.
"Ah, Almas; I miss her fair shores already," Bedard sighs wistfully. "I have not seen her since the last meeting of the People's Council in Erastus; the weather was brilliant in the summer heat, I must say. Just before I left, the streets of the Avenue of the Gods were being prepared for the Inheritor's Ascension celebration, and the mood was bright and cheerful, as ever."
"I am lucky enough serve from Augustana, myself. May I ask where you hail from, Terrill?"
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Mifune,
The Paracountess is positively beaming with the reaction her... affectations have brought out in Mifune. The tall and powerful samurai seemed like he would be a difficult nut to crack, but in reality he was shy as a rabbit... there was fun to be had in stalking difficult prey, but there was also fun to be had in playing with one's food before... consuming them.
"Stuffy indeed," she murmurs, her eyes glinting like brilliant diamonds. "Perhaps removing some of those heavy clothes would help with that..."
Nevertheless, Mifune is swift at dislodging himself from the lioness' grasp and limping away before she can have her way with him in one way or another. Zarta merely laughs as he stumbles off towards Jeon Raeng-Woo; she knew when to bide her time, after all.
And there was plenty more prey to be had here on this ship in the meantime...
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Shel and Mifune,
Jeon Raeng-Woo seems about ready to make his way back to the wine table for lack of anything better to do when Shel approaches him, and he smiles down at the little halfling, seeming a little dazed - or perhaps a little tipsy. "H-Hello!" he says with a brief stutter, stopping himself midway through an obviously automatic bow before extending his hand for a handshake instead. "My name is Jeon Raeng-Woo. It's... It's nice to talk with you." In this, he seems very sincere; it was nice to not have to try and awkwardly force his way into a conversation.
"No... this is not my cup of tea at all," he admits with a nervous laugh. Despite his Tian heritage, Jeon speaks fluent Taldane with only the barest hint of an accent. "I do not know many people here, for my business relationship on this side of the Shining Sea is strictly with the Blakroses... but the wine is nice, at least," he laughs again.
"One of Lady Gloriana's folk?" Jeon asks with a confused expression. "Are you a serv..." He clears his throat. "No, you can't be, not dressed like that. My apologies, Shel. How are you connected with her?"
It is at this point that Mifune arrives, having successfully maneuvered his way out of Zarta's claws. Jeon blinks at his obvious discomfort and reddened face, before bowing to him and saying something in their shared language.
"What... What happened to you?" He switches back to Common for the sake of Shel.
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Trys,
The security is incredibly beefed up, actually much more than you'd normally expect from an event like this. All the guards are fully alert, and many give you a suspicious glance as you drift about the docks checking things out. So long as you don't wander too far away from the main party, they let you be, but sniffing around where you're not wanted might cause some trouble.
The commander of the guards, a tall and muscular dark-skinned Garundi woman, is standing atop the foredeck giving orders. Dressed in ceremonial half-plate shined to perfection, she strikes an imposing figure, attractive even with her warrior's frame and terrible scar crossing the right side of her face. When the pair of guards she was directing head off to their next task, she remains atop the foredeck, pointedly keeping away from the other guests and keeping a keen eye on those gathered here today.
A question to any of the guards on board can confirm her to be Commander Rubaani Shafar, head of security for the Blakroses.
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Yes, those curses can be quite malignant, I was told. They can conjure being from other planes of existance. I myself witnessed an ancient Thassilonian Key call forth denizens of the Nine Hells, straight into the Magnimarian cathedral of Abadar! I'm sure you understand why it would be in everyone's best interests if they weren't shown to the public. There is actually a reason why the Decemvirate chooses not to divulge their every finding, you know. It's for the greater good, assuredly.
After making sure to have made an impression on the curator, the elf moves to other subjects.
Speaking of which, you must be assured how much the Society would like to mend fences and find a way to collaborate once again. I'm sure we have much to gain from working together.
Nigel seems rather concerned at the horrors Kynrac describes, distractedly frowning and not replying immediately. "... Ah. That sounds awful indeed. Maybe I'll have to reconsider our missions there in Varisia..."
"Although," he adds after a moment's pause, "I disagree that it's not in everyone's interests to see what has been discovered. Certainly I'll have to be much... much more careful about what I display now," the elven man shakes his head sadly, "but I fundamentally disagree on keeping it all behind locked doors. The methods and the rules of the Decemvirate are far too stringent to be of any worth to those who wish to collect and spread the knowledge of the ancient world."
Kynrac's suggestion causes the curator to smirk. "Ah. Now I see why the Society sent you here."
"... But, perhaps. There is certainly merit in cooperation, even if I believe my work with the Museum has achieved far more than what I could have ever hoped to do within the Pathfinder Society."
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"Sehnsible. Sehnsible." Barnabus says through his moustaches. "Ahlways guhd te mahke friends. Collehgues evehn. Ah'd be intehrested the have a cohnversashun about the collections. Ah'm a scholar meself." he says, his head bobbing up and down. "See yeh about the festivities." The 'Gnome' bows and strolls away.
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"I apologize for the confusion, Jeon. I meant that I am a Taldorian Pathfinder agent. Therefore, I'm one of the Lady's citizens." Shel takes the opportunity to introduce Mifune as well, figuring that two of them might have more luck than just one. "And this, sir, is another of our group, Mifune. Apparently, you two have much in common."
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Terrill responds in a quieter, more conversational tone, ”I am from Riverford, just a few days upriver from Almas herself. It’s a nice town, and we ate well enough there – you know what they say, ‘If you haven’t been to Riverford, you haven’t really tasted beef’ – but I needed a bit more…freedom. I set off for the capitol when I was still fairly young, with a taste for adventure. After a spell in Almas, it was a short trip here to Absalom. And having grown up around farmers regularly digging up artifacts from the many battles fought over the years at Riverford, I had a taste for such things myself. So I set out to join the Pathfinders, explore the world, and see some of its wonders.” Lowering his voice a little and leaning in towards Bedard, he continues, ”And it provides ample opportunity to spread the Andoren message of fairness and freedom, if you know what I mean.”
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Giving Jeon Raeng-Woo a deep bow, Mifune followed up the gesture with a sheepish smile before quietly thanking Shel for her introduction. Switching to a common tongue between the three, the samurai continued the conversation eloquently.
"It gladdens this one's heart to see a fellow of Tian Xia among this sea of faces. And how goes your business? Do the trade roads treat you well, Jeon?"
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Shel and Mifune,
"Oh! A Pathfinder! I see!" Jeon says hurriedly, cheeks tinged with the embarrassment of his faux pas. "I'm surprised! I thought the Pathfinders were all... well, never mind. I was wrong, hah."
Jeon shoots Mifune a knowing smile tinged with some mirth. He returns the samurai's bow with equal measure.
"What a pleasant surprise to hear Tien again... it's not something I expected this evening. A pleasure to meet you too, Mifune."
Now up close, Mifune catches sight of a golden sun medallion hanging around Jeon Raeng-Woo's neck. Shel had passed it off as a simple trinket, but a man from the Dragon Empires would never mistake it, and certainly not an adherent to Ichimeiyo; it is a holy symbol of Shizuru, Empress of Heaven, patron saint of many samurai.
Jeon smiles a little ruefully at the question of his business. "That I could go myself on the trade routes again... for better or worse, I've become something of an administrator rather than a merchant as of late. Although it's certainly put a lot of gold in coffers, both in my own and that of the Blakroses..."
The Tian man takes a deep swig from his wine glass, emptying it and looking longingly back towards the serving table. "Need a drink?"
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Terrill,
Alexander seems honestly fascinated by your back story, and he listens intently, nodding along with interest.
"Riverford beef... I have tried it once before; it was served at the People's Council one evening. Splendid stuff, I must say; I must remember to pay a visit and try it from the source one day."
The mention of your factional ties, however, causes the old sailor to positively beam in delight.
"Ah yes!" He says excitedly before coughing and lowering his voice. "I have heard what Major Colson Maldris has been orchestrating in your organisation. He is a good man indeed, and you are worthy of the greatest of honours for dutifully spreading the wisdom of Andoran across the world. I thank you kindly for your duty, Terrill." Bedard flips his tricorn hat off and holds it to his chest with a respectful nod.
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"Your disappointment betrays you, brother."
Giving Jeon a warm smile, Mifune took the empty glass from his hands and motioned towards the serving table as he continued with a gentle, soft tone reserved for intimate conversations best kept from others.
"The Blakros family's trust in your services speaks volumes of your skill, Jeon. While certainly the allure of the trade roads is great, your accomplishments for this esteemed family are neither few nor unnoticed. I can only hope that should the need ever arise..."
Pouring some wine into the empty glass, Mifune skillfully maneuvered the bottle, wasting not even a single drop in front of the man of Tian descent. Gently placing the bottle of wine back onto the serving table, he offered the glass back to Jeon with a friendly smile.
"...this one may humbly request your assistance. And may the reverse hold true for you, of course, brother. By the Empress of Heaven, Shizuru, and by this katana, you can rest assured that this one would do his utmost to help a fellow compatriot."
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Terrill bows his head graciously at Bedard's praise and responds, "We each strive to accomplish the goals of Andoran in our own ways, but thank you for your kind words. Please, sir, replace your magnificent hat and hearken a moment to a brother in freedom. Your discretion in responding quietly is admirable, as not all see as we do, and I would ask something of you. Just as I would not seek to raise an issue before the People's Council without consulting with an experienced hand like yourself, it would be a boon if you would think twice, or perhaps even do me the honor of consulting with me, before speaking out too boldly on behalf of Andoran and freedom in this company. I know it goes hard for men such as you and I to hold back when an opportunity to cry freedom arises, but the waters here are full of tricky currents and dark shadows - and you may indeed be calling out someone who agrees with us, but for reasons of politics or survival has to declare otherwise. In short - continued discretion will serve us both well, as long as we keep Andoran's true goals in our hearts."
After this long speech, Terrill raises his wine glass and says quietly, "To Andoran, freedom, and your faith in both, sir."
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Mifune,
Jeon seems to be quite warming to you, flushing a little in embarrassment at the way you talk up his skills.
"No, no, I'm nowhere near that level... you speak too highly of me, friend! Although I sincerely appreciate the words, I've a long ways to go yet."
He takes the proffered wine glass with a smile as wide as Mifune's own.
"I'm actually surprised how wonderful you Pathfinder agents are! Not at all like the rumours," he admits with a laugh, taking another deep sip of the wine. He seems to go through the glasses quite quickly, come to think of it. "I cannot promise I will be able to do anything for you, but I sincerely appreciate the offer and will do my utmost to assist, should the time arise." Jeon places a gentle hand upon the starbust pendant around his neck. "Lady Shizuru would want me to do so, I'm sure."
"Perhaps you can tell me a little more of the Pathfinders, Mifune? Of your adventures?"
At least you have a convenient excuse to talk yourself up over the trip to Pariol Island now.
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Shel,
Even spending the better part of the rest of the journey to Pariol Island searching around the ship, you can't find Tancred Desimire anywhere. It seems that he's not on board.
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Terrill,
Alexander arches an eyebrow at Terrill's warning, although he doesn't seem offended by it - merely a little confused.
"I suppose you're right," he admits slowly, slipping his hat back on his head as he speaks. "I am, after all, the only representative of Andoran here - aside from you, of course. I had best be careful. Playing politics in Andoran is one thing, but playing politics on a world stage... that's not really my forte."
A surprisingly hard look crosses Bedard's face, his eyes narrowed in subdued anger. "There are too many Chelaxians here for that kind of thing anyway. Even that good-for-nothing groom...!" He practically spits these last words out, making sure nobody around could overhear what practically amounted to blasphemy amidst the celebrations.
Bedard shakes his head, taking a deep breath as if to calm himself. "Do excuse me, Terrill. I should not be using you to take out my frustrations."
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Rubaani Shafar I presume? You run a tight ship. It's nice to have friends in high places, but friends in far reaching places can be even better. My name is Trys. I like to obtain useful contacts for the Pathfinder Society, and myself of course. My reputation is far reaching in certain circles. Perhaps you have heard of me?
Rubaani glances over at the well-dressed woman who had approached her, her expression stoic. "I do not pay much attention to the Pathfinder Society," she says simply. "I do not put stock in trouble-makers."
She then turns away from Trys, not attempting to initiate any further conversation.
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After a long journey filled with conversation, champagne, and finger food - or possibly just you wishing you were anywhere but here - the welcome sight of the Pariol Island harbour appears on the orange-tinged horizon. Land ho! goes the cry from the lookout post, and the feeling of joy and excitement that spreads throughout the crowd is palpable; all present were really getting quite antsy to be off the cruise ship.
A long stone pier stretches out into the deep waters , surrounded by a series of small wooden docks for other, smaller vessels. The island has little but a gentle slope down here at the pier, although looking into the distance you can see that the elevation gradually increases towards the west. There is, of course, a spot at the stone pier ready and waiting for the guests' galleon, and a handful of guards and servants wait expectantly for their disembarkment.
While waiting for the sailors to maneuver the vessel in place, you have a chance to look around a little more. You can vaguely make out a charred and blackened ruin through the coniferous trees to the west , the remains of what was once a rather large structure. Free-standing torches mounted on poles decorated with silver and gold line the path towards the north-east, leading to a large, white canvas pavilion and some other, newer buildings .
When you're finally able to disembark onto the stone pier, the gaggle of guests are hurriedly ushered down the path towards the pavilion tent. Dusk is beginning to fall, and as the honoured attendees approach the pavilion, a light and cheerful tune is started by a small orchestra of finely-dressed musicians. Dusk is falling rapidly, but the torches banish the shadows, dancing along with the music and the twinkling stars above.
A tall woman of regal bearing, her age only just beginning to show on her face, stands at the entrance to the pavilion, her face already affixed with a practiced smile. Grey streaks mar the temples of her otherwise dark, wavy hair, and she wears a flattering black dress, its long sleeves and neckline edged with gold. Pretty much anyone can inform you (rather incredulously - How do you not know?!) that this is Hamaria Blakros, matriarchy of the Blakros family - and one of the wealthiest and most powerful women in Absalom, if not the world. She greets you with warmth and finesse, welcoming you to what she describes as a 'humble' celebration. Servants hurry you on, directing you to a simple wooden table designated with your names on small white cards.
Once all the guests have arrived, Hamaria takes the stage and signals for the music to pause, turning to face the luminaries gathered this evening.
"Good evening all, and I welcome you most warmly to the Blakros Estate here on Pariol Island. Tonight we gather not for reasons of business or politics, but instead for a joyous celebration, and I am most honoured that you would join me here today."
"Please, enjoy your stay here. It is not often we get a chance to mingle in such casual fashions, so make the most of it; drink deeply, dine well, and dance the night away, my friends. Thank you all once again for coming. Now... don't let me interrupt you any further; let the celebrations begin!" There's some polite clapping from the peanut gallery as the music begins anew, this time with a much gaudier, foot-tapping melody, and you find yourselves free to mingle.
For those that are interested: yes, there's plenty of alcohol of all kinds available, not just the fancy wines that were being served on board. Of course, even the ales and ciders on offer are of the highest quality, with many being important from distant lands--even as far as Tian Xia or the Lands of the Linnorm Kings.
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Shel finishes a drink to steel herself, and approaches Hamaria. "Ma,'am, I'm sorry to take your attention away from your wonderful day, but I just had to tell you how amazing this celebration this has been. It is truly an honor for me to witness such an event. I'm Shel, by the way," the halfling adds with a nod.
Diplomacy
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Kynrac observes Hamaria Blakros discreetly, over the top of his glass, making notes of small details about the woman's demeanor, such as what seem to be her favourite topics of discussion, what she's drinking, and so on. Admiring the woman's social prowess with a nod and glittering eyes, he awaits for an occasion to share a conversation, biding his time.
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Terrill smiles at the greater array of drinks available now that they've reached the island. Though never a heavy drinker, he definitely favors the human half of his heritage in this important matter, strongly preferring beers and ales over wine. He peruses the available offerings and happily selects a hearty stout from the Five Kings Mountains, then makes his way through the gathering, pausing to listen for a while to the musicians. He spots Hamaria Blakros in conversation nearby and ambles over, unobtrusively listening in while he looks about as if taking in the beauty of the scene around him.
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"If you had heard of me before, you would not be foolish enough to dismiss me so easily. Others have done so and lived to regret it." Trys fingers open her scarf to let the teeth hanging around her neck show. "Troublemakers you say? Well, that depends on if you are standing in our way or not. I assure you, the most profitable place to be is standing by our side. Think on it. The future is uncertain. The society makes for a powerful ally, or a terrible enemy."
-Posted with Wayfinder
Trys,
Back on the ship...
Shafar looks sharply at you, her right eyebrow ever-so-slightly arched. The implications behind what you were saying were very, very clear, and you can tell that she immediately stiffens. The cogs tick in her mind a few moments before she finally responds.
"I do not care for profit. But I intend to protect the Blakroses with my life, as my family has done for generations before me. Trustworthy allies would be welcome."
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Shel,
Hamaria turns to Shel with a practised smile. "Why thank you... Shel, correct? One of Ambrus Valsin's recommendations to come in his stead. It's a pleasure to meet you."
She laughs, although it is a restrained and polite one. "The celebrations are only just beginning, my dear! I do hope you continue to enjoy it. I am so proud of my daughter Michellia, and I would put on only the best of celebrations for her sake."
You get the strong impression that her happiness and chattiness seems rather forced, her piercing gaze often drifting away from the halfling to look over the other guests mulling around. Another guest, a rather pudgy Osiriani man, approaches her with fawning congratulations, and Hamaria smiles apologetically at you. "Perhaps we can speak more later, yes?"
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Terril and Kynrac,
You spend some time perusing the delicacies on display and surreptitiously listening to the varied conversations that the other patrons have with Hamaria Blakros. Her actions are incredibly precise and trained, ever the perfect hostess, inquiring after her guests' well-being and the level the of liquid in their goblets. Many guests try their hardest to steer conversations towards other topics - business and networking for the most part - Hamaria continually turns the conversation back to Michellia with a deft tongue.
"It is a shame that Eleanir could not be here this evening," she says with a sigh to one guest. "As Michellia's twin sister, she would normally take up the role of maid of honour. Alas that she could not make it here from northern Garund in time..."
Though she's mentioned very lightly, you get the impression that there's some strain about the middle-aged woman's face when she speaks of her other daughter.
It's actually not Hamaria's speech that lets you in on anything particularly interesting, though, but rather the strange habits of the matriarch and the guards both here on the island and, thinking about it, back on the galleon as well. She often shoots many a furtive glance over at the really quite numerous guards protecting the area, and from time to time you notice her speak quietly to Commander Rubaani Shafar in the corner of the pavilion, secluded from other guests.
A few words with some of the mercenaries confirms your suspicions - they are indeed on high alert. "The Commander's given us orders to be extra vigilant," one of them, a rough-looking man with copious stubble and a scar across one cheek, told you. "She's worried that the Onyx Alliance might take advantage of the situation here, y'know?"
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Jakarno,
You don't notice anything particularly suspicious, and most of the conversations you overhear are quite mundane, even boring. The only interesting thing you overhear is a whispered conversation between Hamaria Blakros and Rubaani Shafar.
The Garundi warrior seems to be comforting the older woman who is rather concerned about the security here at the wedding. "I swear to you that nothing will happen. My men and women are ready and able to defend you against any threat. I will not tarnish my family's name by having this event ruined by the Onyx Alliance."
Looking at the Commander, you realise you've actually heard of her... or more specifically, her family. Rubaani maintains the longest standing mercenary contract with the Blakros family, signed almost two centuries ago by her grandfather's grandfather. Rubaani stringently upholds her family's code of supplying well-armed guards to the Blakros family; word is she takes it quite seriously.
You've also heard that the woman, while battle-hardened, has a soft spot for tales of bravery and heroism. In her youth she was once an adventurer herself, and though she has incredible respect for the ways of her family, she does sometimes miss the lifestyle. She has a lot of stories of her own to tell, word has it...
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Mifune retreated to the drink tables as he took the position of a wallflower to observe the proceedings. Things seemed to be progressing steadily, with the rest of the Pathfinders hobnobbing rather amicably with the others. Sipping at his sake, the samurai was startled by the sudden wave of nostalgia that overcame his senses. Fond memories of cold winters warmed by a cup of the fiery liquid brought a smile to his lips as the samurai quietly toasted the extravagance of the Blackros family.
As he finished his drink, he immediately set himself to looking for the bride and groom...or even any familiar faces for that matter.
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If my memory serves, for every 5 over the influence check DC, another Success is granted. I think a 29 is worth more than 1 success. :)
Trys wanders the reception with a glass of strong drink in her hand until she located the museum curator and pulls him aside with a broad smile on her face that never reaches her eyes. Nigel! How good to see you! You seem to have fared well after than monkeys and mists incident. I trust you are remembering the help out Society gave in your time of need? I may have a favor to ask of you in the near future. I trust you understand you owe me one.
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Terrill catches Kynrac's eye and gives a slight, satisfied nod at their success in learning why she seems so edgy at this most joyous affair. Well, that should prove useful in influencing her views - I just hope her fears about the Onyx Alliance don't come true. Then again, a good fight might save me from having to talk to a few of these folks.
As he makes his way around the party and thinks on what he's learned, he catches sight once again of Alexander Bedard. I wonder what little secret he's hiding, that might prove useful in steering him towards thinking well of the Pathfinders? Drink in hand, Terrill approaches Bedard and the couple trapped in conversation with him. He gives a quick, friendly bow as he joins the group. As Bedard greets him with a nod in return, Terrill gestures for them to continue talking, muttering that he has no wish to interrupt, he's just curious to hear the views of his countryman. And to learn what I can of the man, to use to the Society's advantage.
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Shel takes her leave and slinks away from the Matriarch of the family, thoroughly defeated at the social arts. Seeing Mifune at the bar, she moved to his side and poured herself a drink. "This is as challenging as some dungeons I've been in," she muttered, taking a long pull from her cup of spirits.
She again looks around for Tancred Desimire, ready to pounce upon him if the chance is given.
Perception
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Barnabus moves through the crowd in search of his fellow Pathfinders, finally finding Mifune. "Mifune, frehnd. I hahve remehmbered something abouht the guard Cahptain thaht might be useful in swayhin' 'er to our sihde." he says, "She uhsed to be an ahdventurer hehrself. Ye might be ahble teh get ohn her good side with some stories of vahlorous deeds ohr battles."
Mifune,
The bride, Michellia Blakros, is not present currently, it seems. The wedding ceremony will be tomorrow morning, and word has it that she is currently secluded in the manor with an entourage of fussy maids and close girl-friends in preparation for the big event. You can only imagine how long it would take to get ready for a wedding of this size and cost.
As for the groom? He's not here either, although you don't overhear a reason for that at present. It remains a mystery.
Apart from that, only the faces you've seen before stand out.
Jeon Raeng-Woo has taken the opportunity to partake heavily of the sake as well, and is currently chatting rather animatedly to a pretty young woman who seems far less interested in his talk than he is in hers. (You notice he wobbles on his feet from time to time.)
Alexander Bedard is looking incredibly disgruntled, for Zarta Dralneen has decided to hang herself off of him this time. You catch the Paracountess' eye for a moment and she smiles; you take that as a sign to change positions and pretend you didn't see her.
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Trys,
Nigel frowns darkly at Trys, obviously unimpressed by her abrupt attitude, her mention of past events, and her general insistence on his actions to support the Society in general. The elf looks pointedly to his wife beside him, who rolls her eyes and skips off to dance with a few friends.
"You Pathfinders are being quite demanding tonight," he says evenly. "The Society helped me when I was in need, but the Blakros Museum has also done its share to repay you as appropriate - and more besides. I had hoped we could all forget about those... incidents."
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Terril,
Bedard is doing his best to ignore the red-silken woman draped over him as he speaks to a pair of older men about the state and profitability of trade routes as of late. Zarta Dralneen occasionally interjects to proffer the power and wealth of Cheliax as a counterpoint to Alexander's bargains, much to the Andoran sailor's obviously-building irritation.
When you approach, he shoots you a desperate glance; Please help!, he seems to be begging. Whether or not you feel up to challenging the Paracountess is another matter entirely.
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Shel,
Tancred is still not present. What gives?! Lady Gloriana wouldn't send you on a wild goose chase, would she?
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"As for what we're doing next, how do you feel about going both to meet her and suggest the Society could offer protection from the Onyx alliance? " suggests the elf.
-Posted with Wayfinder