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A well-dressed gnome, heavily tattooed and smelling of musk, rubs his chin before noticing one of his own heavily muscled biceps. Then, flexing thick muscles, he stretches his neck and snorts.
"Hey-yo! Whadda we gots here? A lil' briefin' bout some big news todays eh?"
He presses his thumb to his nose, sniffs and shrugs.
"So, uh, I guess I'll goes first and do da introductions and stuffs."
Swinging a heavy hammer onto his shoulder, he effects a non-chalant pose while you all work to cover your noses and diminish the heavy scent of patchouli emanating from each and every pore of the gnome's body.
"Name's Balzanno -- from 'Dooklan. My friends, dey just calls me Balzy, I guess dat's my reputation!"
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Andruss is a little more than 5' tall, his noble Taldan traces are clear for any common observant, specially by his well care beard, a symbol of nobility in his country.
When he arrives, only a gnome was there. Judging by the clothes he wore, the gnome probably also had nobility traces... At least so Andruss thought, until he started to feel so many strange smells coming from the little creature.
"Greetings, Mr. Balzanno", Andruss tries to subtly cover his nose with a scarf, "I am Andruss Delsine, and it will be a pleasure to me walk beside you in this new incursion", he shakes hands with Balzy.
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A tall, dark haired gentleman with a well trimmed mustache and beard strolls into the room. He's dressed in an elegant waist-coat and trousers. Notably, a glowing rune emanates adorns his forehead.
"Bonjour, gentlemen. I am Francois Laurent Rosin. This" , he points to a tall, red-gold haired woman, dressed in a serving outfit with a fauchard strapped to her back, "is my companion, Gabrielle. We will be at your disposal for this engagement."
He sighs; A look of distaste crosses his face as he begins rolling tobacco into a cigarette.
"Gabrielle, mon petit. Remind me to purchase a new pipe and fresh tobacco. My last was sadly ruined."
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Fingalad manages to exude grace even while standing still, shoulder-length platinum-blond hair unwavering. Although his frame looks slender at a glance, a closer look reveals definite musculature. Although he bears a warm smile for anyone who greets him his eyes slowly peruse his surroundings attentively. He hums snatches of different tunes as he waits.
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As you make your way through the streets, a lean-faced man hiding behind a long cowl slips alongside. “A moment of your time,” he says and pulls you aside, into the shadows of a nearby alley. “It seems we have two things in common, an eagerness to participate in good celebration, and this...”
He punctuates his sentence by holding out an elaborately carved wayfinder, the type only granted to Pathfinders of great importance.
“I assure you, its mine,” he adds quickly, closing the device and tucking it back into the folds of his cloak with a quick, easy motion.
Then he continues, “I know a good number of you are already planning to attend the festivities this evening. I need but a casual favor. An old associate of mine, Charvion Eater-of–Bones is set to make an elaborate display of some artifact he claims to have recovered. I’ve not had contact with him in a year or so, and I’ve a curious feeling about the event. More I cannot say; however, I’d appreciate you keeping an eye on whatever stunt he’s considering. He’s a natural charlatan that one. Just keep an eye out is all—nothing serious. Don’t let him know that you’re watching, and do not approach the artifact during the showing. Most importantly, tell no one of this conversation.”
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"Osprey."
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"Good, best get your seats. We'll be in touch."
He seems in quite the hurry, and turns towards the ally he came from and walks quickly towards it.
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Once the mysterious man leaves, Andruss tells others:
"Although he seemed not to lie, I'm not completely convinced that this man was Osprey. However, if he doesn't, I think we'll have to deal with a big problem."
He takes a look around...
"Anyway, let's keep our eyes over this 'Charvion Eater-of–Bones', I have bad feelings about his 'surprise'." - pondered the witch.
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Balzanno leaps back at Osprey's appearance from an alleyway.
"Hey-yo! You betta' watch out, leapin' out at Pathfindas from dark alleyways, yer likely to get a clobberin'!"
The tattooed, pachoulli-scented gnome gestures at his earthbrakker.
"You knows us Pathfindas are jumpy sorts, 'specially when ambushed. No tellin' whose we pissed off on our last mission grabbin' some arty-fact."
As the odd druid makes his request and casts suspicion towards the "Bone Eat'a", Balzanno shrugs, working thick muscles that adorn his small frame.
"Ey, no problemo Ospreyo. Dat Bone Eat'a... dis group heres, we gots our eyes on 'im, don't we boys?"
The gnome then works to recount everyone standing around him on the busy street.
"So we gots Andy here. Den dat's Frankie... hey anodda Frankie - whaddya know - and his girl Gabby. And finally dis here platinum blonde is Finn."
Balzanno looks about the alley, trying to remember who else was in his group today.
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A bird of prey comes flying out of the alley, makes a single call, then flies away.
You've all been gathered here for this event, but this is the first that you've actually been face to face. Now might be a good idea to give a formal introduction, including of your skill sets as you make your way into the forum to find your seats.
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Fingalad smiles and nods as the bird departs. He turns to his companions as they approach the forum together and pauses his stride to bow to them, his platinum hair falling forward over his shoulders as he does so. "I am Fingalad Eldahir. I am skilled in stealth, the longbow, and some small magics."
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As you enter the Irorium, a guard at the gate looks over your tickets and motions towards the seats that surround the field. Many high ranking pathfinders appear to be making their way to the field seats on the lowest level closest to the ring, however your tickets allow you to sit either at the Mezzanine level, Terrace, Grandstands, or all the way up at the Ledge.
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A bird of prey comes flying out of the alley, makes a single call, then flies away.
"Okay, I take that back. It was really the legendary Osprey."
"As I told to Mr. Balzanno earlier, I am Andruss Delsine, and I was here for the festivities, but now I think I'm here for a task", he looked to others around.
"So, I know some magical tricks that could aid us in some way, and this", a greensting scorpion jumps out from his robe's collar, "is Paccolo, my inseparable companion."
The scorpion waves with its little claws, then goes back to under Andruss' clothes.
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Francois wrinkles his nose at the pungent odor of patchouli wafting up from the gregarious gnome.
"Monsieur BALzano. S'il vous plaît, refer to me by my given name, Francois. I do not go by Frankie, or Frederick or Ferdinand or any other name you think of, as you please."
He gazes around the amphitheater.
"Perhaps we should pick a higher vantage point? One away from ze masses in the grandstands, non?
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The Mezzanine sits just above the field seats, though it is entirely separated from them. The mezzanine has a slight overhang that extends over the last two rows of field seats. These seats are open to the general public; however, they cost a couple of gold pieces apiece (depending upon the event), and thus their occupants tend to be middle and upper class citizens. The mezzanine is the central hub of the Irorium, providing access to all other levels as well as the most of the exits. It connects to five of the Irorium’s exits: the main gate and the four side exits. From the mezzanine, several sets of stairs climb to the upper levels as well as descend to the field seats.
Below the Mezzanine are the Field seats. These seats are on the lowest level,closest to the ring. They are reserved for important and wealthy attendees. Field seats are accessible by descending staircases from the mezzanine level. While many of your fellow pathfinders can be seen scattered around the Irorium, only a select group have been given tickets for Field level seats.
Moving up the stairs, you find yourselves at the Terrace level seats. The Terrace consists entirely of open-air stone bleachers carved into the structure of the Irorium. The view of the field is still good enough to observe events. A terrace seat usually costs a few silvers. Stairs from the mezzanine provide access to the terrace, and continue on to the Grandstands above.
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Balzanno shrugs as he's corrected by the arrogant aristocrat.
"Hey! So deres no needs ta' get yer knickers twisted, Frankie... Francis, Frans-swah? I just hads dis friend back in 'Dooklands whose ma gave him some name like dat, all hards t' pronouncin' and it drove 'im nuts. So what we do is we give each other nicknames, ya knows?"
The gnome holds up one of his fists, letters tattooed on each knuckle: .
"So, uh, mine's Balzy. Hah! And I is, too! Ya needs someone t' throw a door open and rush in first? Dat's me!"
Balzanno stands in front of Francois, waiting for a moment for the summoner to offer up a nickname, and upon not receiving any continues to solicit for one.
"So, uh. What's yer family name? May be dat can help me comes up wit' somethin'. Like my buddy's was Smith, but we just calls 'im Smitty, ya know?"
Narrowing his eyes, Balzanno shields his face from the sun as he looks for a good seat.
"Anywheres 'deres some ladies is where we should sits. Anyone see any untended lasses? Preferablees gee-nomes, but ya know I ain't got no problems with halfsies either."
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"ouch!", grumbled Andruss when Brunhilde stepped on his foot.
"I'm sorry, my ladies. Please, forgive me for my ignorance", he bows to Brunhilde and Gabrielle.
"I appreciate your agreement, Mr. Rosin. I'll accompany you with your lady to the seats in the mezzanine, if you allow."
Andruss goes to the mezzanine and sits close to the Field seats, trying to get a better position to watch the 'show'.
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It's a pretty packed stadium, but you are able to find a set of 3 open seats one row down from a set of 4 if you want to sit close together. Balzano may be a bit disappointed to note that
Balzano will be less thrilled to note that all of the people seated near said open block of seats are in fact male.
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A booming voice rings through the Irorium - "Welcome to Absalom! On this glorious eve we gather again in celebration of our wonderful city and its freedom from tyranny. We present to you all — the Passion of the First Siege of Absalom! A performance great and terrible, reenacting Absalom’s victorious slaughter of Warlord Voradni Voon’s troops upon the city’s rocky shores. As the highlight of this years performance, directly following the Passion, the Pathfinder Society has generously agreed to a public unveiling of its latest acquisition, a terrifying device dredged from ancient ruins in the Mwangi Expanse. And now, ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats. The performance is about to begin!"The Passion is long, tediously so, though the rowdy crowds more than entertain themselves, booing and cheering th performers and throwing rotten cabbages. In all, it turns out to be a fine afternoon of celebration.
Following the performance, a large stage is wheeled in to the west side of the Irorium. The stage is covered with a large curtain. Beneath is a scaled set of a ruin and in the center stands a bizarre, cage-like structure of weathered metal covered with strange runes and other ornate etchings. A man who fits the description of the Pathfinder known as Charvion Eater-of- Bones stands next to the cage.
“Good evening, friends! On this auspicious night I present to you an incredible spectacle, the type of which you have never seen before. From the darkest jungles of Mwangi, I have procured an ancient device, an artifact capable of ripping through the very cloth of our reality!” Charvion touches something on the cage, and it falls open, slowly unfolding like a blossoming flower. He steps inside, and the cage begins to close around him, crackling with swirling tendrils of mystic, silvery ether.
In an ominous and unearthly voice he bellows, “I am now fused to the ethereal plane—the realm of ghosts! Ask me what you will, and the dead shall answer through me! But be wary of what you seek, for you may not like the answers.”
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Balzanno shrugs at their seat selection, finding solace in sitting near Gabrielle and Brunhilde.
He yawns a few times throughout the performance, particularly whenever there is anything to do with plot, history, dialogue or anything not filled with constant action. Even then, he leans over to his companions picking apart the mock combat.
"Dat guy din't even act like he got hit when he was 'sposed 'ta!"
Finally as Charvion takes the stage and his voice echoes throughout the Irorium, Balzanno miraculously shuts up, swallows hard and to the perceptive eye you could detect the slightest shudder. He slinks in low, trying to hide himself between the taller patrons sitting to his sides.
He looks apologetically at them, offering only a few words by way of excuse.
"Heya - if dat guy channels Grandma, tells 'er Balzanno ain't here. I uhh, hadda use da bathroom."
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Fingalad watches the play intently, hand to his chin, face passive but eyes dancing. As it closes and the Pathfinder begins his display, his face darkens and he mutters "We should not be meddling with the dead..."
-Posted with Wayfinder