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Lysaer bids the hostess farewell for the time and goes off in search of a quiet place to recompose himself. The display with the Matriarch had been inadequate and Lysaer cursed himself. Noting the murmurs, Lysaer turns to see Desimere and his frown deepens slightly, a Chelaxian yes but not one that he wishes to work with too closely.
Seeing Brock lay the down the Groundwork however, the Hellknight decides to follow up on it, for the good of the Society. Making his way across to the Government Official, Lysaer gives him a traditional formal greeting, though it is a little stiff.
"Good Evening," he begins, keeping his voice steady as a Member of the Hellknight's should, the constant threat present. In this way the Aspirant is completely different from his manner with the Hostess.
"it is an honour to see such an esteemed member of the Government at such a function. How fares the Empire and Her Her Infernal Majestrix? I have been away too long on my Order's Business. I am Lysaer of House Nymmiss, Armiger to the Hellknight Order of the Godclaw."
Brock spends some time with Tancred's retinue, who are loyal to a fault and are not willing to divulge anything of use. They speak highly of his ambition, and the quick rise her has made up the ranks of the Thrune government’s bureaucracy. However, Brock has some insider information about the Desimire's relationship to the Pathfinders, and to Zarta Dralneed in particular. Doing some quick checking, he comes up with the details:
reprisal.
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The wedding seems a decidedly human affair, with Nigel being one of the few other elves around. Galandaro finds one other, a hard-faced fellow with the bearing of a soldier, but also wears the trappings of someone familiar with the arcane. He's on duty with the guard, but doesn't seem like a regular part of their company. "Greetings, on this fine evening. Had enough of the party?"
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Tancred looks down at Lysaer, amused at first but quickly impressed by being shown the token. "Thank you. The Empire fares as well as it ever has, thanks to dedicated countrymen such as yourself. You really should spend some time within our borders as well, I think. There is plenty of good work left to be done."
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The Lady Gloriana allows herself as smile as her eyes drift over the assembled guests, both to appreciate the environment and to check that no one is close enough to overhear. "Indeed, it is. And what a marvelous opportunity to have some dedicated time with some of the movers and shakers of the inner sea region. Almost all of the people I had expected are here. Except for Michellia's twin, of course. A shame that she'll have to miss her sister's wedding. Anyway, it took some convincing, but I am glad that the Decemvirate saw reason and sent a party to represent the Society. How have you found the gathered company so far? I trust you're taking the opportunity to plant some other seeds as well?"
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Galandaro greets the friendly elf and replies "The party is all fine and good but my interest lie in a more academic avenue. I am not gifted with the gift of gab as some of my companions are. Give me an old tome and a glass of berry wine by a hearths fire and I am content. The wedding preparations and pleasantries have been outstanding thus far though. What is your function here if I may ask?"
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Auriea nods, smiles and offer a handshake to Nigel. "I believe it would be quite a pleasure to visit. Perhaps I could offer my services at some point, as history of any culture piques my interest. Now if I may, I shall let you enjoy this celebration, while I try to comingle with the punch bowl and food stuffs. Oh, and if you need to contact me, I bunk at the Grand Lodge."
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Lysaer nods solemnly at Tancred's assessment of the situation and smiles darkly, grateful for the groundwork accomplished by Brock before he conversed with the Politican, it always paid to have leverage on a target, be it in politics or battle.
"I agree, I have been there recently and uncovered Illicit religions being worshipped by key officials, a sad state of affairs and the disorderly way they ran a prison..." Lysaer drops his voice slightly for the next part, so as to not cause a stir.
"Fortunately, the Paracountess was on hand at the time to organise Society agents to fix the issue overlooked by certain officials though believed to be a troublemaker, it would appear she has some loyalties, unlike others."
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Brock, feeling quite pleased with his information gathering, decides to wander over to the refreshment table near Lysaer's conversation. He's successfully passed on his tidbits about Tancred and now wants to see the results of the efforts.
He remains circumspect, apparently more intent upon the oysters than reactions. He'll take the chance to check on his treant as well, prune a few leaves, and make certain no family dogs are trying to pee on it.
The elf with the soldier's stance nods at Galandaro. "Right you are. Although I find that the old tomes get boring after a while, then I know it's time to head back out in the field. Really, the study is part-time interest, and part-time necessity. You could call me a hunter of the extraplanar. I've been asked by Commander Shafar to join her group for this event; they were looking for someone with some knowledge of planar threats, and asked me to freshen up my knowledge of the Shadow Plane in particular. Anyway, I'd like to continue the academic debate, but duty calls." The man gives an informal salute, dusts off his jacket and make another tour of the compound.
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"Good, good," Lady Morilla comments. "Indeed, a twin sister. They look as much alike as they're different in character. While Michellia could be described as timed, while Eleanir has always been the more... enterprising, or so I've heard it described. My resources tell me that she excused herself from the wedding on account of being in Gardund, adventuring."
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Lysaer's pointed threat catches the Chelaxian nobleman quite by surprise, after the formal introduction and show of his loyalty. Tancred already has a pale complexion, but Lysaer can see the blood draining from his face. "Well... The Paracountess, she... It wasn't like that, he was..." Tancred is fumbling for words, but they elude him at the time. "If you'll excuse me..." Tancred quickly extracts himself from the conversation, but Lysaer is pretty sure that he's made an impression, and that the Society has gotten some leverage, if needed at any time in the future.
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It's getting late at night, and the musicians cease playing. Hamaria stands on the stage, elegantly grabbing everyone's attention. "Esteemed guests. I speak on behalf of my daughter and her husband-to-be, when I thank you for your presence, and of your part in this night's success. Alas, tonight's festivities are at and end. However, I can assure you even greater revels in the morning. Our staff is here to escort you to your cabins. If you will all join us in the morning at ten for the ceremony. Good night."
The pavilion quickly empties after that, and your group is brought to the cabins as well. Shortly after being settled, there is a knock on the door. Trade Prince Aaqir al'Hakam enters when you open, leaning casually against a table. "Good evening, Pathfinder. I must confess, I had some reservations against the plan to send a delegation of agents to this wedding - you never know how's going to be available of course - but I must congratulate you on your success so far. I've been talking with many of the guests, and you're efforts to improved the Society's standing has not gone unnoticed. You did very well with Nigel: showing him how reliant he has been with our help, but then sending on Auriea with the olive branch. Very elegant! I hear you've also managed to impress our agent's capability on Commander Shafer, and you've piqued Jeon Raeng-Woo's interest in the Society as well. I suppose you didn't get much opportunity to actually talk when in conversation with Alexander Bedard, but you seem to have made excellent use of the time you did have. Well done."
After the good news, Aaqir's face turns more business-like. "Now, I would like to make some suggestions on how to direct your efforts tomorrow. I shouldn't have to impress upon you the important of Hamaria Blakros, the matriarch of the family. I know she's busy, but if you can, try and get her in a conversation. Also," the Trade Prince looks distasteful, "there's Tancred Desimire. You're probably aware of the history he has with us, and I think I saw that Lysaer made good use of of that. He'll just need a little push, to make sure that he won't bother us any more. That's all, I think. Get some rest, we expect you to be sharp tomorrow. Good night."
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Brock seems well pleased by the visit of Aaqir's and finds a good place to sprawl out in one of the corners of the room, taking up significant space on the first place he finds to sit as soon as they arrive.
Once Aaqir leaves he starts pulling off his boots and going through the motions to prepare for bed. "It sounds like it's good progress on our part for the day, ya? Though he's right, we may want to focus our attention tomorrow on Hamaria and Tancred. Lysaer and I have already made some progress on the latter.
"I can start the day seeing what I can learn about my family's matron. I'll as the missus and a few cousins. Then the rest of you can go after the pair? If we have a bit of time maybe we can talk with Mr. Raeng-Woo as well. I think it's a plan, but what do the rest of you think?"
If there's no major debate, Brock will turn in for the night, but if things need to be discussed he will stay awake long enough to do so.
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Unlike Brock, Lysaer finds a chair and sits down in it keeping up his harsh image. Keeping most of his armour on, but removing his gauntlets and placing them on the table.
"Indeed, stellar work so far,but we can't get complacent, I had little luck with the Mother of Bride and have already placed Desimere on the back foot.
Mayhaps we should discuss who will go for which guest? I amyy yet to speak with this Woo character however."
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Isabella has untied the peace-knot on her sword and is sharpening it with a whetstone. She puts the whetstone away and gets a soft cloth and some oil. She continues maintaining her sword while speaking.
"What's the business with this Desimere fellow? I learned today that the bride has a twin sister who excused herself from the wedding. She is called Eleanir and is adventuring in Gardund."
She sheathes the sword again and puts her tools away.
"I have no experience with trade. I can talk to Desimere, any leads I can use to open the conversation?"
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Auriea enters the cabin and flops down on the nearest bed while listening to the Trade Prince before speaking up, "That Nigel seems to be an interesting man, though if I talk with his benefactor, Matron Blackros, he may be less worrisome when the Society takes jobs for the family. I'll see what I can do concerning further relations with the family tomorrow." Rolling to his stomach, the sylph grins at the others, "Maybe I can get our half elf friend a dance or three tomorrow, unless he's too stiff for it."
Taking off his shoes, kukri, and chain hurt, the bard then tugs slightly at his sleeves. Clothes shimmering slightly, change fairly quickly to nightwear ofor dark blues and the starry sky. Tapping his hat, it changes into an eye mask that Auriea slides over his face. "Now while others may want to stay up late, I'm getting some sleep. I may need it concerning tomorrow's endeavours might be taxing. Desna's blessings to everyone."
As the sun rises on the eastern horizon, representatives of the Blakros family move between the many living quarters erected on the island gathering guests for the wedding ceremony. A queue of nearly a hundred guests stretches along the winding path through the woods from the guest accommodations to the location of the wedding itself, with each guest arranged in order of rank and prestige. The procession makes its way approximately a mile to the northwest, ending at an opulent, open-air chapel carved out of cedar and wreathed with colorful flowers and laurel leaves.
Atop a high bluff overlooking the Inner Sea, the chapel sets a scene of wealth and beauty few families in the region could afford to build specifically for their child’s wedding. Rows of comfortable pews stand facing the chapel, providing guests in attendance with a view not only of the ceremony and the vista beyond, but also of those other guests who were granted better positions because of their social station. All guest are seated, with the Society representatives given a spot of relative prestige in the third row—behind the first row of attending members of the Blakros and Kastner families (on which Brock is also seated), and the second row of other honored dignitaries. The process continues until all pews before the chapel are filled to capacity, at which point a priest of Abadar enters from behind the pews to address those present.
The priest delivers a long sermon about the duty of nobility in matters political and economic, and heaps praise upon the Blakroses for their contributions to Absalom and the entire Inner Sea region over the centuries. His praise for the groom and his family is noticeably more understated, and while he seems approving of the Hellknights in theory, the speech includes a number of underhanded jabs at Cheliax and those who use law as an excuse to cause pain and suffering in others.
At the conclusion of the sermon, Damian Kastner walks forth from the entryway, garbed in the finest of ceremonial Hellknight armor. To honor the groom, Maralictor Toulon Pentor of the Order of the Scourge rises from the chapel’s second row and delivers his own speech, which consists primarily of recounting of specific operations Kastner oversaw as a Hellknight, and a list of over two dozen noted criminals from throughout the Inner Sea that he is credited with apprehending or killing.
With much fanfare and adulation, Michellia Blakros proceeds down the aisle, followed by an entourage of doting attendants who maintain her elaborate dress and 6-foot train. The bride takes Kastner’s hands as the Abadaran high priest again takes the pulpit, now espousing the importance of adhering to the contract of marriage and the significance that such a long-lasting agreement holds.
As the sermon draws to an end, the priest looks over the assembled witnesses and asks, “Do any here object to this union, sanctified by the great Judge of the Gods, or know of any reason this contract cannot be entered into by either party?” A hush overtakes the room, and for a brief moment it seems that everything is all right, until a voice breaks from the crowd. “I do!” The protester is Alexander Bedard. He then gives an impassioned speech to the guests, most of whom stare at him incredulously: “Be not fools, friends! This is not a marriage of love, and the sacred oath this pair will soon take is but a means to a political end. Michellia Blakros doesn’t loves this man, and what the groom feels for his bride seems immaterial to these proceedings. The great nation of Andoran has shown in its short existence that every man or woman should be free, and this wedding spits in the face of that belief. This couple should not be bound to one another over a lie for mere political gain. I, Alexander Bedard of the Andoren People’s Council, protest!”
Bedard sits down after giving his monologue, and confused and angry murmurs begin to erupt from the crowd. Michellia looks irate at the spectacle her wedding has just become, and Kastner maintains a cool face of steely anger.
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Lysaer attends the Cermony the next day in his new courtier's garb, a black ensemble chased in in a deep crimson and proudly showing his allegience to his home nation of Cheliax and the order of the Godclaw. Sweeping his long coat back, the Hellknight takes his seat and smiles slightly at the honour showed to the Society.
Listening through the speech, Lysaer knows all too well the teachings of Abadar and so respects the windbag priest as the representative of one of his own deities.
At the Councilman's absurd deceleration, Lysaer frowns but keeps his tongue, not wishing to cause any more drama for the couple. Oh a lover's scorn, what droll. I don't doubt this will be a grand gossip piece, let us see how this plays out.
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They really did not spare any expense. Money and influence that could have helped countless others...
Isabella sits through the speeches, keeping an eye on the guards and their captain. If something would happen they are in a better position to see it than she is.
When Bedard makes his speech she still keeps one other eye on the guards.
Even so, isn't that their choice to make? The freedom to make our own mistakes? Or does he mean that she is forced into this... Poor man, as if women can't make their own decisions.
She takes a good look at Michellia, trying to determine if there is any reason to think that this marriage is not of her choosing, whatever the reasons might be.
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Brock has no idea who the priest is, but is aware enough to know he's Abadarian and apparently has something against Cheliax. It didn't matter, he was enjoy the festivities; the procession, the view, the speeches and proclamations.
He sits among the Blakros family dressed much as he was yesterday, though the colors have changed to house colors, and he's doing his best to not fidget or embarrass anyone sitting close to him even as he begins to grow bored with the display.
Of course he has a similar reaction as the others do to Bedard's outburst, but after a quick glance to his wife he refrains from doing anything more than peering back at the display. She'd gave him a slight shake of the head and a frown, which meant terrible things if he started shouting back or acting up.
It wouldn't do to speak up anyways, he had nothing against Bedard, but his own marriage was one less of love and more purpose, even if love sprouted later. He made a mental note to buy the fellow a drink later.
I don't know what he was expecting from a Blakros wedding...
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Hmm, it seems that the Blackros family has money and pull. Maybe after the ceremony I can talk with the Matron of the house. Looking about the group of people, Auriea seems somewhat attentive to the ceremony as his eyes dart from person to person. The bard was dressed in similar fashion as the day before, but with a more flowing overcoat. The loud outburst caught his attention, and the words sparked the mischievous side of the sylph. Standing, he clears his Hrvatski before speaking, "Be that this marriage may not be in love as you say sir, but it mayhaps be the bride's choice of her own free will that is beneficial to her and her family? If I recall, the Blackros family would be quite a boon to any noble who marries in, because of their connections through the Inner Sea. As for yourself, may I ask as to how you know she not marries out of love?" Auriea lets the question hang for a moment before speaking once more, "Maybe it perhaps you and she are lovers, and you would rather marry her for the sake of happiness, rather a fruitful and lucrative business agreement? Maybe she had chosen this rather than not, because she can visit her true love upon her trips outside of Cheliax. Either way, I wish to not make any more a scene than you did just now, so I'll let both parties decide how to go further." Sitting after his say, he breaths an audible sigh. So much tension. I thought having dinner with venture captains was stressful.
Bedard considers Auriea's words for a moment and seats himself, quite confused by the Sylph's eloquent words. Likewise, Michellia gives him a piercing stare, trying to figure out what's going on. Regardless, his words have acted as a lightning rod, preventing Bedard from becoming the ridicule of the ceremony. There's some snickering over his romantic notion of this marriage, but Damian discreetly cues the high priest to continue, which quiets the crowd. Bedard doesn't object either, still mulling over Auriea's speech.
The ceremony continues without incident after that. The bride and groom are married, upon which the audience erupts in cheers of congratulations. Soon thereafter, Wroclav of Brevoy declares the ceremony closed, and the procession of guests follows the newly-weds back to the pavilion for the reception. You notice that Hamaria stays behind with the High Priest and some attendants to finish up some business at the chapel.
During the reception, you have another chance to mingle.
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Lysaer sits through the rest of the ceremony, intrigued that the Sylph felt the need to speak for Bedard, though it may help in their own mission for the Society. Joing the rest of the guests, the Hellknight Aspirant politely acknowledges the Maralictor of the Scourge as well as passing his congratulations to the Bride and Groom as is only proper. Theses are merely fleeting passes however as he stalks his intended prey, Tancred Desimere.
"Good Morrow countryman," the Hellknight starts in his usual dark voice.
"A lovely service don't you agree? Though Abadar was an interesting choice for a Deity, it would seem the Blakros hold much sway with their church however. I would have expected a little nod to the Groom's allegiances, and with no Mention of her Infernal Majistrix, must be careful not to appear as a dissenter as some have, no?"
Lysaer takes a drink from his glass to let the point of his jab sink in to the wily politician before continuing, changing the subject.
"Can you believe the Andoran? What a mockery to make just over being scorned?"
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Brock has ample opportunity snuggled in amidst the various Blakros family members to offer whispered discussion about politics, the wedding, and in house gossip. This is all interrupted by the outburst and following end of the ceremony, but he takes the time to engage in banter with the bride and groom.
"Ah, sister Michellia. The wedding has been splendid, the best affair welcoming someone into the Blakros yet, and I should. And Sir Damien, it's a pleasure to have another brother to join me!" Brock is bright and chipper as he talks, his arms animating his words. He'll attend to give Michellia a familiar hug and Damien a firm handshake, perhaps with a good pat on the back.
"I'm glad things are going well. There was a bit of a ruckus back there that will leave it's own... amusing memory. I hope your mother isn't too bothered by it, I know mothers can be very particular about ensuring their daughters have their perfect wedding. I do hope she is well and not over stressing herself.'
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Isabella joins Lysear and Tancred Desimere, catching the last few words Lysear said
"It is my opinion that Bedard has read to many romantic novels. Michellia is a Blakros, she can think for herself and make her own decisions why she wants to marry him."
Isabella looks at Lysear "Now Lysear, you seem to have forgotten your manners, introduce us to each other. If I want to get a chance to get in your fellow Chelexian's ball book I probably need to be quick."
To Desimere "You do dance, don't you?"
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Lysaer nods to Isabella and takes a step back from Tancred, including the Aldori in their conversation. He indicates Isabella as he talks before then sweeping his hand to Tancred, as is only proper.
"How remiss of me, Lady Isabella Aldori, another of my Society's representatives at this gathering. Isabella this is Tancred Desimere, member of her Infernal Majistrix Queen Abrogail Thrune II's illustrious government."
Michellia warmly returns her cousin's hug. She seems somewhat relieved that the entire ceremony is over. "Thank you, Brock. Good to see you again. How's life in the Grand Lodge treating you?" Damien returns the firm handshake, still with his perfect posture and brisk manner. "Thank you. Indeed, I am aware that I am the latest in a long line of men to join the family. Perhaps we can get acquianted later." He then defers the conversation to his wife, who nods at Brock's words.
"You're right, I was worried she would only add to the disarry. She's been quite out of sorts, planning this whole wedding, and with everything..."
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Tancred seems to have regained some of his composure, since their meeting yesterday. "Same to you, Armiger." He considers Lysaer's words on the priest's sermon for a moment. "Such was to be expected, I think. The choices of our government are not easily understood by outsiders. I am used to this level of narrow-mindedness. This does not reflect poorly on Damian, though. I have every reason to believe that he will continue to do the right thing, regardless of where he is. Also," Tancred emphasizes this point, "we should judge a man's loyalty by his own actions, rather than his loose associates."
He's about to launch into a scorching rant on the Andoran, when Isabella joins. "My lady," he acknowledges the introduction, giving the slightest nod of the head. "I do dance, but this reception hardly seems the place for it." Seeing how Isabella also remarked on Bedard's faux pas, the Chelaxian noble feels safe to give his opinion after all. "Indeed, he's a fool to think that every man or woman could make choices that only reflect their own whims. There are always larger loyalties to consider, but it doesn't surprise me that an Andoran would fail to take those into account."
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Lysaer smiles darkly and nods,
"Of course, one should not let associates or kin drag them into murky water." the Armiger replies, finishing his glass. "Now if you will excuse me, My drink is empty. I do hope you enjoy the rest of the festivities. We shall talk later Isabella, until then I shall leave you in the Councilman's safe hands."
With that said, Lysaer slips away from the conversation and goes towards the waiters for a refill.
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"I do hope there will be a ball tonight. If there is dancing you will ask me. Otherwise I will find you." Isabella says in a voice that leaves no room for any doubt.
"But I am sure you will be a good boy" she says before she taps him on the shoulder and walks away.
I am sorry my lady, I know I should not waste my breath on lesser evils.
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Smiling throughout the rest of the ceremony, Auriea gets up and leaves with the rest of the guests and heads towards the reception area. Managing to grab a plate of food, the bard looks about as to see anyone else that he could talk to to pass the time. After a few moments, he finishes his food and makes his way towards Bedard. "I apologize for speaking out during the ceremony, but wouldn't it be best to voice your troubles in a more, private, matter? I take it that you are the bride's supposed true love?" Auriea's questioning seems to be quite genuine, as he is curious as to why the man had attempted to stop the marriage.
Tancred meets Isabella's gaze. "I will, don't worry..."
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The Tian man gives Cernan a wide smile. "Indeed, I had not expected such a commotion at the wedding. I think Michellia took the outburst in stride, though. Will you have a drink? They have wonderful chilled white wine." Jeon offers Cernan a glass. The Aasimar notes that Jeon's glass is already more than half-empty. Apparently, the man likes his drink. Making him more amenable to influencing would probably be as easy as keeping him with a drink in hand.
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Alexander looks worried. "Oh no, it is not like that, at all. Unfortunately, I must say. We did meet at the Grand Convocation last year, and I must say I was quite taken by Michella. Unfortunately, it seems that the burden of being a Blakros has made her decide to pick this Kastner fellow as her husband. I could be at peace if she had fallen for another man, but look at him. He's... he's harsh, and cold. You can't tell me she'll be happy with a man like that. I just felt like I had to speak out. To offer her a chance to let her true mind speak, if she did have second thoughts." He sighs. "I suppose I must resign myself to her choice, but I wonder if it'll turn out to be the right one for her."
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You hear the call to be seated, and are directed to a table along with lady Gloriana Morilla, Trade Prince Aaqir al’Hakam, and a group of their aides. For this occasion, brock is separated from his wife and seated at this table along with his fellow Pathfinders. The Paracountess sits at a different table with a detachment of Chelish dignitaries, including Tancred Desimire, who seems perturbed at having to share a table with her. After being seated, the head table arrives — a delegation of Blakros family members and important relatives, with Michellia, Damian, and Hamaria Blakros as the most important figures at the table. A plethora of speeches and congratulations then begin from the head table.
The round of speeches begins with Michellia’s mother Hamaria, who dotes on her daughter’s excellent pedigree and the respect shown to her family by Damian Kastner. Others at the head table give similar speeches, expanding on their love for Michellia and their acceptance of Damian into the extended Blakros family. Eventually, Michellia Blakros stands to make her own proclamation. Although quiet in tone, she speaks with a force that all can hear. "I wish to thank you all for coming. While the Hellknights of the Order of the Scourge have lost a loyal and noble soldier, the Blakroses have gained a new member of our esteemed clan — my husband, Damian Kastner. As a symbol of this union, I offer you, Damian, the Blakros name, so that you will ever be known as a member of our elite, illustrious family. Let it be known forever more that your name shall be Damian Blakros, should you accept the honor."
The groom then stands and speaks himself, raising his glass toward Hamaria and the rest of new family. "I, of course, accept this honor, and am proud to know my children shall bear the name as well. I am not good with words, however, so I shall keep this brief. There are few gifts I could give in response that would parallel the honor I have just received. Even so, I shall offer something that my new family will hopefully find valuable. To my wife, Michellia Blakros, I offer my family’s long-held manor of Ostergarde." Damian’s announcement causes an immediate commotion from the crowd. Audible whispers and speech drown the pavilion, as assembled guests show mixes of horror and satisfaction at the proclamation made by the former Hellknight.
As the crowd quiets down, Hamaria Blakros bids the guests enjoy the reception’s food, music, and wine for the rest of the afternoon and into the night. Immediately, guests rise from their tables and move about the pavilion, all eager to gossip about this dramatic offering to the Blakros family. Gloriana Morilla is surprised by the announcement, and can fill you in on the history of Ostergarde. "Remember, you primary mission is socialize and make good impressions on the other wedding guests. This may be the final opportunity to carry out your duties."
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Lysaer sits at their arranged seat and eats and drinks sparingly so as to not lose the faculties needed in this knife-edge political mission. With his poor performance with the Blakros Matriach previously, Lysaer decides to avoid the Andoran flop and joins the Tian merchant, ensuring that his own glass is topped up with watered wine whilst his targets is full of his favoured vintage.
"Greetinngs Master Raeng-Woo, I am Lysaer Nymmis, companion of Auriea and member of the Patthfinder Society. I am told you are a childhood friend of the Bride? How are you enjoying the festivities?"
OR
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Brock is completely happy to be sitting with his new pathfinder friends and spends more of his time chatting them up than paying attention to the food. He's far less rigid then Lysaer and attempts to engage the poor man in casual conversation throughout the meal.
He lowers his voice moderately during the speeches, but continues to try and discuss the happenings with the man.
His eyes widen in moderate surprise at Damian's declaration, and he explains the import of Ostergarde to the other pathfinders present. "Ostergarde Manor... that's an abandoned site in the Chelish mountains. I've heard a few people mention that diabolists once performed all sorts of vile nonsense up there long before Aroden died and the House Thrune showed up. It's a pretty important place historically, and the family could get a lot of money and artifacts out of it... hell of a gift." Pun intended.
Once the guests break up and Gloriana has her say Brock will attempt to approach the family Matriarch.
"Ah Madam, it's quite good to see you, I haven't have the chance to really talk with you since the wedding started. It's shameful of me, but you know how these things go. I have to make a good impression not only for you, but for the Pathfinders tonight, and you're quite busy yourself. I'm hoping the Society and our family can always become closer. It keeps down the conflicts of interest between house and home for me."
He'll go through the proper greetings for her, a bow, a kiss to the hand if she wishes it, and do his damnedest to not look like wilderness man he is.
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"I would have to say, that if she doesn't find him being the right man, why not try and make yourself a good second choice, or a good friend at least. I am sorry that your heart was broken, but be assurred, the world is a grand place, and love can rears its beautiful head at another time," Auriea consoles the man before heading towards his assigned seat.
Nodding a bit, it seems that the bard doesn't quite grasp the concept until Brock mentions the importance of the site. Looking at the others, he follows Brock and attempts to help with their request to be more affiliated with the society.
Bowing low, the sylph introduces himself,"Greetings Matron Blackros, and congratulations on this day. I am Auriea, an agent of the Pathfinder Society on occasion, and dancer at trade. This is quite the get up, better than I have seen from even some trade prince's festivities. I commend you on your ability to make most, if not all parties involved, feel welcomed. As Brock here has mentioned, I have come on assignment and have been thinking about a proposition between our society and your trade company. While I have talked to Woo about travel arrangements for myself, as Tian Xia's culture quite interests me, I believe that maybe we could work out a deal as the Pathfinders could act more as contract body guards and explorers for various relics? I bring this up hastily, as I would rather you enjoy your daughter's marriage to your fullest, as from what I have seen in the past few days, you have been quite busy, and would quite possibly like a rest." Hoping to make the best of things, he then offers a hand to the woman whilst smiling, "Also, would you care to dance?'
Nigel adjusts his glasses as he think. "I think you are right, but I'm not too keen on what might come out of this mansion." He leans in conspiratorally. "I've heard it said that all kinds of diabolic practices took place there. If you ask me, we've had a few incidents too many already at the Museum, lately."
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Hamaria gives a perfectly diplomatic answer to Brock's well-wishes, but he realizes that it's just that: a diplomatic answer. "I hope the same, Brock. There are already some ties between our family and the Society, and I am glad that we are able to connect when we have mutual interests."
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Where Brock failed to pierce through Hamaria's front, Auriea's charm (and possibly his dancing skills as well?) put the Blakros matriarch at ease, which allows some of her cautiously-held front to fall. "You make some good points. I do not believe we are in need of contract body guards - Rubaani family contract has always served us well - I can't find fault in the Society's ability to dig up interesting things. Both material and immaterial. If a need arises, I will be sure to think of you."
--
Lysaer spends a good amount of time keeping the Tian merchant company, and making sure his drink is never taken care of. He finds that Jeon is very easy-going, and agrees to pretty much anything concerning the benefits of the Pathfinder Society.
Galandaro and Cernan finish up their conversations, but do not make any new headway in promoting the Pathfinder Society.
--
AFter a while, when your group is conferring among themselves, Damian Blakros discreetly joins you. "Brock, if I could ask a favor of you as a new brother-in-law, possibly along with your companions. I haven't seen Michellia in a while. It's probably nothing to worry about, but could you check up on her? I'd go myself, but I'd rather not give Hamaria any reason to believe I'm up to something..."
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Brock is grinning at Damian's first approach, but the expression becomes more tempered at the request. As Damian has said it's probably nothing, but brides usually don't disappear from their own partie when Hamaria still has expectations. "Of course, Brother. I shall get right on it, and I'm sure my friends will do the same. You keep my wife occupied and I'll go find yours!"
And he will do just that, passing on word to the other pathfinders and then seeing if he can track anything down.
He'll leave the more social lot to ask if anyone has seen something and start looking around for signs of where she went. Eventually he'll smother a shout of AHA! before waving the others over. "She is heading this way, I have found her shoe prints... I have no idea why."
He'll then whistle like one would call and animal and he treant will lumber over towards him. "It's odd, I shall bring a friend... she can help track! Shall we see where this goes?"
Once away from the party Brock will apply Barkskin to himself and the treant, as well as shield companion on his pet. Best to be safe than sorry.
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At the whistle the large tree will finally rouse itself from where it was digging in roots just outside the party pavilion for the day. It had done a good job of not disrupting anything, but considering it's large size it's not the most subtle of guests as it begins to follow Brock right at his heels.
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"It appears that she was spotted leaving from the southern side of the pavilion. Maybe we should start there," Auriea suggested after asking a few people if they had seen Michellia. The bard wondered as to why the bride would leave her own wedding, as it was a celebration to her.
"I found some footprints heading away from the festivities. Should we follow them?"
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Lysaer nods to Damien's request and confers with his allies, agreeing with Auriea's statement. Cautious, the Hellknight also looks around the group for the Andoran Bedard or any other key missing guests, barring Tancred who had not arrived for the reception.
"I concur, south is the way to go. I do not think baring steel or untying bonds is the best course of action, maybe she has gone to take some air, these parties can be... stifling. We do not wish to arouse suspicion"