Roland Aristocrat Campaign

Game Master Goldstool Shroomshine

Please answer each question before moving on to the next. You can post them all together, but please don’t move back to previous questions after looking at future ones. You have a suspicion that this examination is more than just witness testimony, and the detective has some doubts about you.

"State your full name and birthplace. State any and all living members of your family."

Please answer each question before moving on to the next. You can post them all together, but please don’t move back to previous questions after looking at future ones. Not answering any question is completely legal, though could lead to a formal questioning as a suspect if the issue is grave. You can assume you have reasonable knowledge over the laws, I’ll correct you only if something seems off. Estelle doesn’t regularly work with Francis, though she advises you be very wary if lying to him.

"State your full name and birthplace. State any and all living members of your family."

Attack Roll: 1d20 + 6 + 3 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (10) + 6 + 3 + 1 + 1 = 21(BAB+Str+WF+WT) forDamage: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6
Evelynn brings down the weapon, though Seth his able to parry off the blow. She seems to be holding back some of her strike, opting to keep her attack precise. It is surprising neither blade splintered on impact. She pulls the spear close, gets low to the ground, and extends it at Seth's feet for an unexpected second strike.

Trip Combat Maneuver: 1d20 + 6 + 3 + 1 + 1 + 2 + 2 - 5 ⇒ (12) + 6 + 3 + 1 + 1 + 2 + 2 - 5 = 22(BAB+Str+WF+WT+Imp. Trip+Greater Trip)

Seth's footing topples, and he begins to fall prone. Evelynn shines a grin, and takes a third strike at the falling Mercenary.

Attack Roll: 1d20 + 6 + 3 + 1 + 1 + 4 ⇒ (14) + 6 + 3 + 1 + 1 + 4 = 29(+4 as prone melee target) forDamage: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8

The wooden staff strikes against Seth's side, a strong swing to a gap in his armor. Seth fell on his back, feeling blow at his ribs, falling down on the straw covered battlefield. Evelynn looks down to her fell foe, pointing the spear towards him.

Arena Battle Map

Round Two:

• Seth Varianna [8 nonlethal, prone]
  
• Evelynn Durant [1 AoO]

• Seth Varianna (move ten feet, Total Defense) [AC+4]
  
• Evelynn Durant (5ft step, Fullround attack (Attack, Trip), AoO)

The host pushes the rings, the scrolls, and the potions towards the lawyer. “These are for promises. Contract Rings. Pact Parchment. Geas potions. These are the tools to my trade.” The paper has a lengthy agreement, terms and conditions for a pact. Swears to secrecy, loyalty, mutual relationships. The text is small, and the numerous terms are daunting, even to a lawyer. “My staff won’t be questioned. I have contracts to people sworn to stop such activity. My back is covered by thousands of stipulations across dozens of pacts, and I provide services to each of my sworn colleagues. So I won’t need your help with them.”

“You are rising up the ladder, Raphael. Your name is already a growing whisper in this city. I don’t want you to pursue those that break my contracts, rather, I want you to be my Gargoyle. Looming above, intimidating but silent, imposing but unmoving. I want to merely speak your name and leave those who sign with me afraid to break their arrangement. Of course, there will be times I ask you to act as a lawyer for me, but largely I seek your name, Raphael.”

Seth hits the floor hard as he is it by Evelynn's wooden spear. He tries to get himself up, taking any hit that it might provoke. He then quickly shifts towards her. As he does he responds. "It's not about how much you fight in the arena." He takes a stab at her abdomen.

Attack: 1d20 + 3 + 3 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 3 + 3 + 1 = 19 (BAB+STR+WF)
Damage: 1d6 + 3 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 3 + 4 = 13 (STR+Challenge)

As he pulls his blade back, and continues his statement. "It's about who will be the best representation of me and my men."

Evelynn's strike hits his arm, though not deterred, Seth take a quick step forward, and strikes straight at her gut. She doesn't move away from the wooden blade, but seems surprised when it hits her. It seems that Seth got the better deal for the exchanged blows. She almost expected the strike to be repelled.

Evelynn recoils back, taking a couple twirls of her spear. "Good strike." She twists the grip closer to herself, and adopts a lower, more guarded stance. "What do you think you know about me that makes me-" She swipes up from the floor, sending straw into the air towards her opponent.

Attack Roll, 2nd AoO: 1d20 + 6 + 3 + 1 + 1 - 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 + 3 + 1 + 1 - 6 = 21 (BAB+Str+WF+WT)forDamage: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7

The wooden spear hits at the leg of Seth before being pulled back towards Evelynn. From behind the airborne straw, a piercing blow aims for the neck.

Attack Roll, 2nd Attack: 1d20 + 6 + 3 + 1 + 1 - 6 - 5 ⇒ (20) + 6 + 3 + 1 + 1 - 6 - 5 = 20 (BAB+Str+WF+WT)forDamage: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6
Attack Roll, 2nd Crit Confirm: 1d20 + 6 + 3 + 1 + 1 - 6 - 5 ⇒ (12) + 6 + 3 + 1 + 1 - 6 - 5 = 12

Seth flicks his blade, avoiding a dire attack but still struck a bit beneath the shoulder. "-The girl for you and your men?" The straw begins to settle on the ground, though the battlefield is now marked by a clearing revealing the raw marble beneath. Evelynn, while reserved, seems to be enjoying the bout. The two of them begin to breathe heavier breathes, and Seth begins to feel the fatigue wear in from her strikes.

Round Three:

• Seth Varianna [25 nonlethal]
  
• Evelynn Durant [13 nonlethal]

• Seth Varianna (move ten feet, Total Defense)
  
• Evelynn Durant (5ft step, Fullround attack (Attack, Trip), 2 AoO)

• Seth Varianna (stand from prone, 5ft step, attack)
  
• Evelynn Durant (5ft step, Combat Expertise/Fighting Defensively Fullround attack (Attack, Attack)

Attack: 1d20 + 3 + 3 + 1 ⇒ (16) + 3 + 3 + 1 = 23(BAB+STR+WF)
Damage: 1d6 + 3 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 3 + 4 = 12 (STR+Challenge)

As his pulls back blade he continues. "And you protect people for a living... I protect goods for a living. Close enough if you ask me." He smirks ready for her next set of blows.

Here's to hoping she doesn't knock Seth out before he finishes talking.

"State your full name and birthplace. State any and all living members of your family."

Halcyon was expecting this sort of question and had thought hard about how she should answer it. She did not want to be discovered as using an alias, so she had decided she would tell the truth, as far as it goes, and hope the detective would have no reason to make it public knowledge. "I have two answers to that question. The one I usually give is that I am Halcyon d'Orsay, daughter of Jacques and Eleanor d'Orsay of Murgleis, both deceased, with no brothers or sisters. I have documents to that effect, but that is a business pseudonym that I use because I am embarrassed to say the truth. My father is Lord Alain Vallin of Rolland. My mother is Sonia Vallin, with sisters Lisett and Clara, brothers Lionel and Yves. My given name is Perrine. My father was plotting to have me killed, since my handicap made me an expensive liability. So I faked my death and blackmailed him into silence about my continued existence and I have been working ever since to support myself with my business, d'Or Consultant Services." Halcyon places one of her cards on the table. "I do not wish to make trouble for my father, so long as he behaves himself, so I hope you will keep this information confidential."

"Understand you’re an oracle. You had a premonition on the murder?"

"Yes. I heard the host of the party on New Year's Eve, M. de Beaux, as you probably know, invite someone to smoke some special tobacco he had just acquired. He mentioned in an off-hand way that it was 'to die for.' Now I know he did not mean that literally, but such things sometimes can still be significant, so I consulted my Harrow deck and the card I drew suggested ..., well, let me show you." She fished out the card, The Empty Throne and showed it to the detective. "I inadvertently made something of a scene when I tried to cast a spell to detect poison and Abigail's bodyguard started to take defensive actions. The tobacco turned out to have no poison and I apologized."

"You met with Captain Moltke, but you did not tell him of your omens before the murder of Abigal Bolton?"

To this Halcyon frowned, trying to remember. "I told M. de Beaux and he informed a few other people to keep an eye out for anything suspicious. I don't recall telling Captain Moltke anything. It was, after all, just a premonition, and such things are not usually worth calling in the authorities to investigate."

"Instead you informed Vincent Durant and your friends. Both Durant and the Tamarins have personal alchemists, capable of brewing the potions and poisons that affected Bolton. Silverstone herself can make alchemical concoctions. Montefiore was a Special Forces infiltrator specializing in subterfuge in Galatian soil. You personally shared the coming murder with almost all the suspects present at the party. What is your relation to these suspects?"

"You speak as if an oracle sees the future as easily as someone might read a newspaper headline. I had a premonition of some tragedy affecting someone of Galatian descent. If you had been at the party and I had told you, would you have assumed I was correct and started an investigation on the spot? I told whom I told out of concern that there might be something to my premonition, as a precaution.

"I had never met M. Durant before the party, although as far as I can tell, he did everything he could to prevent violence and to save Abigail once the poison began to affect her. The Tamarins I know because I enjoy their business establishment. I know Marcus fairly well, as I spend many nights enjoying the entertainment at his tavern. I am less familiar with his sister. I don't want to make trouble for her, but I have since learned she is connected with Blair Bey, who, for reasons I can explain, I have come to view as a suspect. As for the other two, Mmme Silverstone and M. Montefiore, I know little about them, having only met them on social occasions at the tavern. But if Marcus trusts them, as he does, then that was good enough reason for me to trust them under the circumstances. I certainly did not observe anything in their actions to suggest they had anything to do with the murder. They instead put themselves at some risk, escorting some of us home."

"I did uncover some evidence as to how the murder was carried out, if you care to hear it. If I am correct, Ambassador Bolton was poisoned four hours before she died and prevented from dying by a potion to prevent the poison from acting. We think someone at the party introduced a second dose of the same potion into her wine. When the effects wore off, the poison took effect. I used my spells to detect the type of poison that affected her and it revealed Black Lotus extract, which is highly toxic and acts instantly upon contact. I also used magic to see if I could locate any more of that poison and there was nothing within hundreds of yards of me except what was affecting Abigail. I shared this information with Captain Moltke and others. We inspected everyone for traces of the anti-poison potion and found none."

"I used my skills for one other task to try to get some clues as to how this had happened. I got a sense that the important event was four hours earlier with a secondary contributing event happening two hours after that. That would be consistent with administering the anti-poison just before the poison four hour before, with another anti-poison two hours later, at the party. We found evidence of some such substance in Abigail's wine glass. I asked Abigail's bodyguard what she was doing four hours before her death and he said she was at her home and had a visit from Blair Bey. I know that's hearsay, but I am sure M. Boltonward can confirm that."

"I understand that you can't treat any of this information as evidence, but I offer it as the best I can do to locate the killer. I will be happy to consult with your investigation at no charge, if there is anything I can do."

"I have another concern. I don't want to imply anything specific, but I have confirmed something with Nishara that she has connections with Blair Rey. I asked because some of the things I have learned lead me to consider Blair to be involve in the poisoning of Abigail. It's just a suspicion, but it concerns me. Nishara was highly nervous and evasive when I asked her about her relation to Blair, which could mean many things, but I wanted you all to be aware. Blair's presence at Abigail's residence about the time she was likely poisoned and dosed with the anti-poison potion may just be coincidence, and Nishara may have nothing to do with the events if it's not, but all the same, I would prefer Nishara be kept in the dark about the things I'm sharing with you and I'd encourage you to consider these potential connections when you have dealings with her. I'm sorry Marcus. I am not accusing your sister of wrong-doing, but these are facts and until I know better, I'd prefer to control what she knows, as a precaution."

Side note: Halcyon will offer to do Arthur Blake's next consultation gratis, to make up for any problems caused by Mirabelle's revelation that he is consulting her.
She'd also appreciate learning what Jean-Tom and his underworld contacts are making of the murders on New Year's Eve. This is not a task, just a feeler to see if the events seem to have origins in things they already are aware of or if they are as perplexed and concerned as she is.

The detective looks at the card, and hands it back to Halcyon. “Something was poisoned, you weren’t far off. Coincidence in the cards or not.” The detective waves his hand over his face quickly, trying to inspire a reaction. He rises from his seat, and his jacket jingles. He places the coat around his chair and stands up, nodding as Halcyon recites the events.

"If you had been at the party and I had told you, would you have assumed I was correct and started an investigation on the spot?”

Francis walks around the seated Oracle, watching her talk. The detective chuckles softly.“A detective doesn’t assume, d’Orsay. Wouldn’t assume it was true nor false, but I’d be a foolish detective not to look into the matter. If every murder had an Oracle and Detective on hand, this city would be a lot...” he trails off, lost in the thought. "Brighter," he finishes.

When Halcyon gives her insight, Francis rushes back to his seat, hastily grabbing a pen from his coat and grabbing a loose piece of paper. He writes in the margins of what appears to be a suspect list of another case.

“Blair Rey. Quite an accusation, but the bigger they are…” he frantically fills the margins in small writing. Several moments are filled only with his jotting. “Fratricide. Almost treasonous to say aloud.” He smiles thinly, looking up only to ask the next question. “Our search points to anti-Galatian extremists. Blair working with such individuals is contrary to what we have. Why Blair?”

Verrill’s features are tame and lean. His fur is light brown, chestnut, with small spots of white along the center of his. He wears thin glasses, made specifically to rest high over the brow of his nose. His ears have small piercing with brass, almost trinket like accessories cabled by thin, wapred wire. All over his body his hair is pulled back by clips and pins. He wears a heavy robes, jade and brown, with harem pants that hang low to the ground.

“Dearest greetings!” His voice is shrill, sing-songy and quick, and he wears a smile that shows slightly pearlescent teeth, with a shimmer like that of a soap bubble. “Come in, come in! Verrill seldoms has guests, excuse the careless, cluttered, chaotic debris of my toils. Come, come.” He opens the door, revealing the mess. It is rather clean, despite his warning and the sheer amount of gear he has. The penthouse is more or less one room, a combination living room, laboratory and kitchen. Without closets, hundreds of alchemical supplies pile onto dozens of cabinets. Some are against walls, though some just seem to be placed arbitrarily, separating the house into different spaces. In the evident "lab" space, several alembics and bulbous glass containers hold bubbling liquids, experiments and processes in action.

“Doctor, welcome. Tea? Coffee? Something in between? A combination of the two?”

Caroline seems to find several contacts from her brother, all capable of casting scrying or powerful divination magic. After a couple days of research, she narrows down ones that seem more credible, more likely to help with locating the spymaster. She identifies “Casimir Sauveterre” as an aspiring diviner, one set on creating a school in the Society for Augury and Divination. He has advocated responsible use of divination magic, and holds personal freedoms and privacy to be paramount, despite the nature of his focus. Most importantly, he is perhaps the most talented dedicated diviner in the city.

Mirabelle’s office seems to be rather easy to find. When asking Jean-Tom, he is already familiar with her location. She seems to be just outside of the city’s walls, a few minutes walk from the city’s northern gate. Jean-Tom mentions that her attention generally isn’t a good thing to have, but she isn’t dangerous in any regard.

Jean-Tom runs out of fingers to count on when trying to list possible enemies of the Spymaster: Other members of Council. Druids who resented his actions. Aspiring politicians. Galatian Spies. Guard Special Forces. People against magical regulation. The list goes on. He tells you that he could check for any particularly nasty vendettas, but for a member of Council, and a Spymaster at that, he isn’t the most favored person in Roland.

The charity auction will be on the 18th, during the events of the next week. You have another action.

Gardens with Vincent

The Botanical Gardens aren’t busy during the winter, though you imagine in a few months time it will be hard to walk so freely here. Outside, there are large tracts of frozen earth around leafless trees. Roots climb up the walls and large windows, and the building appears almost organic. A bit of snow remains on the ground, likely to be replaced by hundreds of flower beds and plants as the temperature begins to warm.

While the outside is composed of bleak stone walls and muted brown bark, the inside of the Gardens is a lush paradise. Away from the cold separated by mere inches of stone, it is almost tropical in the entrance. Bright, swaying trees bloom with blush red petals. Vines tendril along the ceiling, dancing in spiral patterns with one another. Small, treant saplings transport wooden containers of small shrubs and bushes, ready for transplant. Animals of every size either rest or play with one another. Squirrels, cats, birds, dogs, oh, so many dogs, in addition to various literal lounge lizards. A leashed Mako pants, barks excitedly and plays as a guide dog for the oracle. He leads her to familiar person.

Vincent Durant is armed with none of the knives he has grown known for. He is dressed in a dark outfit, with a navy cape-like cloak, with shiny brass buttons by the clasp (Imagining some like this, though without the thigh-fur). His clothing appears a bit too warm for within the Gardens, but a bit too sparse for outside it. As Mako nears, he drops to a knee to greet him. He scratches the dog behind the ears, and looks up to Halcyon with large, dark eyes. “Enjoying your day?”

The bodyguard takes a quick shift backwards, keeping her distance from Seth. She smiles. “You’re better than I thought.” Her spear shoots to Seth’s hand.

Disarm Combat Maneuver: 1d20 + 6 + 3 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (14) + 6 + 3 + 1 + 1 = 25

She lands the blow on his fingers, and with his attention diverted, she flick her wrist, disarming the mercenary. The blade falls to the straw, and Evelynn smiles as she swings a second strike, low to the floor.

Trip Combat Maneuver: 1d20 + 6 + 3 + 1 + 1 + 2 + 2 - 5 ⇒ (11) + 6 + 3 + 1 + 1 + 2 + 2 - 5 = 21

The attack flips Seth onto his back. She points the wooden spear to the downed, unarmed mercenary. She stares at him for a second, then tosses her weapon to the ground, leaning over, and helping Seth rise to his feet. She smiles, bending some of her faint scars at her cheeks. "Hell of a fight from a nobleman. What say we make the bar our War Tent, and strategize a partnership?" Evelynn stretches, touching her stomach and rolling her shoulder to check for injuries. "Damn, haven't been hit with a wooden sword in years. Hurts as much as I remember."

• Seth Varianna (move ten feet, Total Defense)
  
• Evelynn Durant (5ft step, Fullround attack (Attack, Trip), 2 AoO)

• Seth Varianna (stand from prone, 5ft step, attack)
  
• Evelynn Durant (5ft step, Combat Expertise/Fighting Defensively Fullround attack (Attack, Attack)

• Seth Varianna [25 nonlethal]
  
• Evelynn Durant [13 nonlethal]

• Seth Varianna [25 nonlethal]
  
• Evelynn Durant [25 nonlethal]

"A detective doesn’t assume, d’Orsay. Wouldn’t assume it was true nor false, but I’d be a foolish detective not to look into the matter. If every murder had an Oracle and Detective on hand, this city would be a lot..." he trails off, lost in the thought. "Brighter," he finishes."

Halcyon replies, In my own way, I did investigate further, but in retrospect, I don't see how anyone could prevented the tragedy that had already been set in motion. If I had detected poison on Abigail, that might have been ... but I didn't, so ... She shrugs and continues her account.

"Our search points to anti-Galatian extremists. Blair working with such individuals is contrary to what we have. Why Blair?"

"I'm an oracle, not a detective. I did not intuit her name or identity, just that the event that was most significant to unraveling the cause of Abigail's death took place four hours beforehand. Her bodyguard, Eduard Boltenward, said that Blair Rey visited Abigail four hours before. So I don't even know that she is resonsibile, let alone what the motives of her actions are. I know of her only by her reputation."

“Two times they delay the administration. Four hours prior, once at the party two hours [earlier]?” The sides of the paper are now completely filled. “Clever if true. Still leaves someone as an accomplice.” Francis puts his pen away. “Who would you suspect did it?”

Halcyon thinks a moment before saying, "I did what I could to locate suspicious people both before the poison took effect and after. I see better than I let on, although not very far. I used a spell that outlines those with an evil bent or certain types of magical items."

She pulls out a piece of paper and jots down the names she remembers identifying as evil as she continues to talk. "It's not highly reliable. This one," she points to Vincent's name, had a number of magic weapons on him, one of which had some kind of necromantic spell effect, which contributes an evil aura to the one who has it on his person. He had a lot of potions, but I tested all the empty vials in his potion container and none tested positive for anything that would have delayed the poison or caused other harm. I don't think he had anything to do with it.

She adds Emile's name to the list, slightly separated. "I don't suspect Emile, but I can't really rule him out, either. He was the host, someone I've not known for long. I learned from his sister, Caroline, that he often accepts geas spells as part of his regular conduct of business. If you haven't already done so, I'd look at his records, just in case he got pressured into helping. I hope I'm wrong, as he otherwise seems harmless."

"One other odd thing I observed about the other guests: Sinclair Leblanc left the party during the investigation phase, before Helmut had given approval for witnesses to leave. That struck me as a bit bold, although I know of nothing that implicates him. I wish I could be more help, but most of the people at the party were strangers to me."

Raphael replies in a simple one-word answer to the second question, "Yes."

When Francis Albert continues his questions, Raphael responds calmly, "That is correct. I had a knack for the language, a grasp of politics, and a head for figures. I'm not at liberty to discuss most of the operations in which I was a participant, but broadly speaking I sought information on the status of Galatine and her military capabilities."

Raphael nods, seemingly unsurprised by the line of questioning, and replies, "I was not. My tasks were focused on clandestine infiltration and information gathering and not in assassination. I was expected to be able to talk my way free of any situations that threatened the mission, falling back to my magical abilities and skill at archery only if needed. My assumption is that there were branches of Guard special forces that could perform such tasks, but my skills lay elsewhere."

He waits patiently, seemingly at ease, and watches the guard's captain flittering gaze with a measure of appreciative curiosity. It seems that I've much to learn when it comes to reading people.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (1) + 18 = 19 Hunch as far as what the good captain is thinking? Edit: probably not with that roll... :P

Raphael maintains a level smile as Emile begins to speak and lay out his motivations. He nods, saying, "I did indeed. A tragic ending to what would have been a very pleasant evening. Your effort is appreciated." Continuing to smile, he glances up to wall and the quivering string linking him to his friends and acquaintances. "Yes, I think I can see your point. Certainly the ignominy of my grandfather's fall from grace would be enough to motivate most, but there is more to it than that. I admit to that the thirst, unslakable and terrible as it might seem to be, for a return to old heights and to new glories. To see and lead Durendal to new dizzying heights. These things I hunger for, and perhaps in that we can share a purpose."

He watches the instruments as they are pushed across the table to him calmly, studying each in turn as Emile explains. His smile stays, but he watches the items warily, respectful of the power they could wield. Reading over one of the parchments, his interest is piqued by the thorough work and he nods in appreciation. Tight and careful language that is dangerous only to those who are not aware of its depths. A thorough analysis would be needed, to be sure, but this is interesting

"Yes, I can see why you might want that. My name has begun, as you observe, to carry weight and I don't intend for that to change. I have purposefully sought out provocative and difficult cases, cases that could arouse passions, in order see the city buzzing as people share the name Montefiore at every coffee house, cafe, and bar in the city. This among other reasons, of course. So with every victory, my rising fortune would in turn make that shadowy gargoyle you so eloquently describe a more looming figure that is all the more frightening. I admit that your offer intrigues me, but there is the matter of quid pro quo to be addressed. I can lend my name, and the apprehension it will inspire, but it also limits my freedom to work, to a degree. What's more, there will be a perception that I am now an owned man, or at least a retained man, who will serve at your beck and call. So I have to ask what you will do that will make this worth my while?" Raphael lets his question hang in the air a moment, watching Emile pointedly, before he continues, "If I may, you are a man sitting at the center of an immense and complicated string of webs-" Raphael nods his chin at the board behind his host, "-and you have a great many contacts as a result. You are a broker and a dealmaker. You have a thumb to the pulse of the city and nation and those who have power within it. Is that your offer, perhaps? The right words in the right places and now cases that might have gone elsewhere are mine and lucrative trade deals that were out of my reach are but low hanging fruit waiting to be plucked? Or, perhaps, did you have something else in mind?"

Raphael waits, patiently watching, his smile not faltering.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 18 ⇒ (10) + 18 = 28

Perhaps out of pride, Evelynn refuses treatment from the doctor. She says she was caught off guard fighting without her armor, but she had taken worse before. Evelynn invites Seth to a small gathering next week, a charity auction maintained by Estelle Bellerose, Alexander Ravenhall, and Augustine Langlais. She says that she should be able to have your family crest emblazed in her armor by then, and would like to have another martial adept at the party. She mentions that her brother seems especially distraught by the death at this very house weeks ago.

After locating some tea leaves, he pours the water, heat-proof gloves in his paws to hold the bubbling beaker. “Verrill has heard from too much of your good deed, doctor. Usually a ratfolk quarantine is to separate them from the other patients, or for a dissection. Kind to hear otherwise. ” He brings the two mugs over, curling hairless, crooked fingers over the handles. He places one by Gill, clears a chair for himself, and sits by her. “Patient confidentiality, so Verrill won’t ask on the affliction. Intriguing though, Verrill has heard the Green woman brought them to various chapels before you. Good to know we can do something faith cannot.” He takes a sip of the water, and he recoils. Too hot. “Then again, that might be a very, very bad thing if even Gods can't help.”

“Emile is in the next round to be called in. As is Vincent. I thank you for your cooperation, madam.”Francis leans forward, and extends a hand. “Wonderful to meet you, d’Orsay. Amidst strangers, you seemed to hold your own. Normally refuse outsider help, but you might be a special case." The detective pauses. He almost looks intrigued. "I’ll mull over what you gave me, and if we need your help or continued testimony, we’ll send another letter.”

The captain extends a hand into his pocket, removing a half burnt cigarette. He begins to light it with handheld flint and steel set. “Of Galatine’s military might, what do you think?” He removes another cigarette, this time fresh, and holds it out for you.

Emile rises back to the wall, looking to it with a sense of admiration, perhaps, pride. “Let me tell you a story. Five hundred years ago, my ancestor made the prediction of the coming of the Heroes of Roland. Her words inspired the first and only Durendale King on his quest to find the men and women that would free this city from the shackles of a great, black dragon. Their story is that of legend now. The tales of these heroes is now more myth than truth, you know, I can show you the original scroll and the fallacies this nation has created these last five hundred years.” Emile turns back to Raphael, smiling once more. He scratches at the bandage on his hand as he continues. “Olympe, the first de Beaux oracle. We pretend we weren’t peasants before her.”

“My family has been riding the coattails on her prediction for more than twenty generations. Oracle after oracle, my family would always tie it back to our soothsaying foremother. We were great for our relation to her. We were trusted as we had a hand in this nation’s founding. We had heritage, we had power, but more importantly, we had a name. For generations, my family put everything in their oracles. Slowly, our name crumbled. We never had a second Olympe, but everyone on my ancestors tried to replicate her greatness. In a way, I suppose it is the curse of the Oracle. My mother and father’s dying words were for me to protect Caroline, that she was the last hope for the de Beaux name. I was seventeen, Caroline wasn’t yet one.”

“There is nothing more powerful than a name. The fact my family has survived this long is proof of that. But the de Beaux name now conjures other thoughts. Young boys hear de Beaux and they imagine Beatrice like she is the noble circle’s plaything. Anyone in the Society hears my name and thinks of Caroline, seeking only to have their name associated with hers. I’m sure you’ve heard whispers of what others think of me.”Emile touches the wall, and beckons Raphael closer to inspect it. “I don’t share this with others. You can tell as I can speak openly about it. I can’t do that for any of my, hm, arrangements. I think only around eight people have seen it all. Close friends and family, you and someone who picked the lock on the door the night of the party. Someone skilled, they disabled the alarms and safeguards I have in the room. But finding them is my project, not yours.”

“So Raphael, I offer you this in exchange for your name: anyone. You’ll have an in to anywhere. You’ll have a friend, who always knows the friends you’re looking for, and the disclosure, and let’s say compulsion, to keep quiet on it. If you need a friends, they’ll line up on your doorstep. If you need something you can’t get, I’ll offer you the name of someone who can."

He takes out a blank piece of paper and a small quill. He dips it into ink and begins to write. "We’ll need to keep the fine print, I am sure you understand, but we can agree to something fair.”

“I, Emile de Beaux, under no compulsion and a sound
state of mind, promise the following to Raphael Montefiore
in exchange for their name, and only their name, until matters of
their legal service be required. Firstly, I will provide person or
persons requested to the best of my abilities in a prompt manner
satisfactory to both parties. Secondly, I will provide information on
person or persons to the best of my abilities in a prompt manner
satisfactory to both parties. Thirdly, if my above two services do
not satisfy the expectations of Raphael Montefiore, I will seek to
acquire connections to or knowledge of the individual in question,
to the best of my abilities in a prompt manner satisfactory to both
parties. Should I, Emile de Beaux, believe to be brought harm (be
it physical, mental, reputational) through any of the above requested
actions, I am able to decline the request and future requests of
Raphael Montefiore and negotiate further terms for this contract’s
fulfillment.”

Emile looks at the piece of paper. “How does this look, Raphael? The nitties-gritties will be covered in the Pact. Non disclosures, promises to not bring harm to each other through action or inaction, never mentioning this pact, my other pacts, or the nature of this room. Regular affairs, you know.”

Emile seems to genuinely be seeking a partnership of sorts. Some of the legal writing does seem a bit off, formal, but not quite what you would see from another law office. Some of the wording seems to present loopholes, and you aren’t sure if it is intentional. As written, the contract expires the moment Emile asks for legal services. In addition, if Emile believes that he could be harmed for doing something, it would effectively cancel his end of the contract. Lastly, the liberal use of “to the best of my abilities in a prompt manner satisfactory to both parties” does catch your eye. It might be there as to limit compulsion or allow him to refuse if another contract of his says otherwise.

You have to ask for directions within the society several time in your mission to find the diviner. Tucked within the Society of the Arcane arts, past hundreds of hallways, dozens of libraries and several lab experiments you wish you never saw, you find the man you were looking for. Casimir is tall and thin, with dark skin and a shaven, bald head. His face is carved in deep lines under his eyes and outlining his cheeks. He appears in his mid-forties. Casimir's robes are rather tame for the talent that Caroline spoke of. He reads a thick book, but puts it down as you approach.

After you explain a bit of the scenario, the augur lets the matter sink in. "Spying on the Spymaster... Treasonous, dare I say, but it makes sense. I've heard from Headmaster Voidwalker that somethings was amiss in Council. I can't do this for you, unfortunately."

Casimir inspects the cloak. "Sorry, but I'm not a sleuth for hire. Such activities brings a bad name to the school of divination." He reaches into a bag at his size, removing an ornate, silver hand mirror. "Afraid I can't help you, I should be honing my magics." The wizard twists his neck, causing it to crack. He moves his hand into his bag once more, retrieving a spell book. "But, sit, take a read, mademoiselle. Scrying usually takes an hour or so, not that I am casting it for you." Casimir holds the cloak on his lap, looks to his spell book and grips the hand-mirror. "Scrying for practice, that is all. Not a service, just practice." He smiles as he begins to softly chant the spell.

After an hour, Casimir's eyes gloss over white. The mirror's face cracks, and he lets down his spell book. He begins to come back to the Society. "He's alive... the spell worked but it was blocked by something. I know not if it is magic, but the spymaster is being hidden by someone." Casimir closes his book. "I've never encountered this before, but I am learning a spell that might be able peek past the veil. I haven't quite mastered it, but..." Casimir thinks over the options. "Archmage Voidwalker is teaching me the spell. Supposedly it is the most reliable, sure-proof way of finding anything. I'm not sure when I'll be able to cast it, perhaps a few weeks or months. I'm not sure how he'd react to asking to scry on other Council members."

Responding to Emile:
"I have a feeling the fight would be even more one sided if we fought in the coliseum right now." Seth tries to ignore the throbbing pain in his hand as he speaks. "If you do open one, I think I'll watch next time instead of participating."

To Gill:
"Fix me up Doc, don't want Lucia nagging at me for coming home a mess."

Sitting at ease in his chair, he mulls over the question for a moment then answers, "I have not kept up on the reports, having left the service I do not see the intelligence communiques. From what I can recall, and it is certainly outdated by now so I feel no hesitation in sharing this, the Galatine's military prowess is formidable and certainly enough to threaten us should they so choose. They possess fewer and less disciplined ground forces, but have a greater number of magic users who act readily in concert with their troops. If war were to break out, as things are now, I would imagine it would be a bloodbath that will likely end in a stalemate unless there is some significant change in either of our circumstances."

Raphael watches as Emile sits and writes, he scans the page over his host's shoulder, mentally sorting through the requirements asked of him and the promised rewards for fulfilling his terms. He nods slowly as Emile looks up, saying, "This will be sufficient to start, though if I may propose the following to be added, to clarify a few points."

Raphael sits and takes up a sheet of ordinary parchment, beginning to write in a quick, elegant hand.

"I, Raphael Aldric-Helene Montefiore (hereafter Signator), under no compulsion
and possessing a sound state of mind, promise the following to Emile de Beaux
(hereafter referred to as the Client) in exchange for his services as a broker
of information and of persons. First, I will provide the usage of my name for the
purpose of ensuring that the Client's contracts are upheld. This usage will be
exclusive to the Client, unless a written agreement is made between Signator and
Client to the contrary, and to the Signator for his own purposes and the purposes
of his holdings (including but not limited to the Montefiore Trading Company and its
subsidiaries). Second, this usage of the Signator's name shall continue until the
Client engages the Signator's legal services or until this contract is mutually revoked
by written decree. Third, this usage of the Signator's name shall continue so long as
Client continues to provide services as agreed upon in this contract to the best of his
abilities and in a prompt manner satisfactory to both parties. Should I, Raphael
Aldric-Helene Montefiore, believe to be brought to harm (be it physical, mental, and/or
reputational) through the fulfillment of the above listed obligations, the usage of my
name shall be suspended immediately and in continuance until this contract's terms and
requirements are renegotiated in a mutually agreeable manner."

"There, I believe that should complete the contract adequately. Do you agree, Emile?"

Know(Loacl): 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (18) + 12 = 30 Trying to gauge how ironclad the contract's terms are. Use another skill bonus if more appropriate.

Emile looks to what you wrote, and puts the two papers together with a wide grin. “Lovely, absolutely, lovely.” He places the paper by the contract, rings and potions. “I do agree, Raphael. How shall we bind this?” He looks to the three devices. “Geases, even lesser ones, aren’t to be trifled with. I’d understand wariness if you had any. Pact parchment is more, let’s say, forgiving when it comes to breaking your word. Contract rings,” Emile begins, looking towards his ringless hands, “a bit more flexible. With regular dates, we could keep things more open ended, change our terms more easily. The bond of the rings would help us understand each other better as well.” He slides everything across the table. “Your pick, friend.”

With your addition, the agreement seems fair and binding. Both parties now have an “out” for the contract, either upon legal service for Emile, or perceived harm or damages to either party. It seems that you are getting the better deal at the moment. Should your reputation grow in years time, however, your name may prove more valuable than Emile's favors, and as is, you could only exit the agreement if you believe to be brought harm from your interactions with him.

Sponsorship Deal with Evelynn created. You may now hire Gladiator special mercenaries (with increased dice and special abilities) for a one-time 500gp cost as your Recruit Soldiers action. In addition, when you recruit normal mercenaries, you receive an additional mercenary for the action due to increased awareness of your company.

“We ratfolk? Quite the question.” He cratches at his chin, wondering where to begin. “Verrill doesn’t like to call it politics. Dehumanizes, er, make us an issue rather than a people. I’m told eight or so generations ago we sort of appeared in the city from somewhere Far Away. Our generations, not yours. One of us is an adult a bit after a decade, and near dead when your kind reaches maturity. Verill believes our life expectancy ties with our biolog- nevermind. Rambling.” He grins. “I’ll give you the abridged story. We came for opportunity and found it amidst the sprawling sewers. Presently our numbers grow larger, uncountable now. In a generation our numbers will quadruple. There is seldom space in our cage, and we have nowhere to go but up or out..”

He tries to sip his tea again, more cautiously than before. “Fungus in the sewers. Not uncommon. Uncommon that such measures had to been taken. Caught Verrill’s intrigue, almost as much as you did. Rare for a rarer affliction to be treated on Verrill’s kind. Seldom do we have the means to pay. This means you honor humanity, but what Verrill finds more important, you honor ratfolk life.”

He puts his mug down, scratching at his neck. “When Verrill works, he charges. Not for Verrill, but for the ratfolk. Potion or concoction, they gather gold for the cause. Verrill has amassed quite a bit. Enough for say...” he bounces his head, counting figures. He utters his next lines slower than usual, around the speed of a normal speaker. “An infirmary, bit smaller than yours in the southern part of the city. Verrill has a building in mind. Perhaps something for Verrill’s people, perhaps something of a project between the two of us?”

The next room is almost entirely green, with large, oak trees stretching towards the ceiling, which is painted and magically illuminated to appear almost like the summer sky. Beneath their canopies, it is like a forest, and the tracks between trees form traveled trails. Vincent begins pivoting along the winding path, holding Halcyon close and guiding her. “Oh, yes, you can see, would you prefer I don’t?” The room stretches out far, and almost seems like an actual jungle.

The next room is warm beyond comfort, covered in sand, with white, flattened stones forming walkways. The air is dry, stale almost, but life persists here. Exotic barbed cacti poke from their gardens, each labelled with foreign names, near tongue twisters for the Durendale language. “I hear the Gardens pays top dollar for undiscovered specimen. I wonder where they acquired these ones...” A plaque above the next door reads “Gardinier’s Garden.” Vincent opens it, and a refreshing breeze comes through the door.

The room is small compared to the others. No more than thirty by thirty feet. The space is more intimate, and without a clear theme that the others present. One of the walls spews a blanket of water, a thin waterfall, trickling streams over rounded, softened rocks. Grass stretches across most surfaces, spotted with flowers and the occasional speckled toadstool. Three benches form of stone slabs each point at various focal points. One at a vibrant, blooming tree with white petal dancing in the breeze, one at the waterfall and the dancing streams, and another facing a strange hedge, a floating cube of leaves without any grounding to the earth.

Another man is in the room, an elf, pruning a hedge by hand. He has long, straight, dark hair, and a crown of golden laurels wrapping his head. He wears a white robe that flows over the grass, with a brown cloak over it. He has a brass symbol on his neck, an assortment of leaf shaped carving that seems to form a face. He doesn't turn to Halcyon, Mako and Vincent. “Welcome to the Gardens, is it your first time?”

+200 gold.

With a well worded message to Council, you wait for most of the week for them to vote on whether or not your case will even be brought to court. After six days, you receive a formal response. Of the nine members of Council, eight were present to vote. The vote resulted in a tie, a four to four in favor and against. However, Council must always settle on matters, even if one of their own is not present. Violette Emberborne, Guard Colonel, switched her vote on the 13th, resulting in five for, three opposed. The motion is passed, and the court date is set for in two weeks time to allow for Greater Galatine to select and deliver a lawyer to the Roland Higher Judicial Affairs. Your letter from Council was followed by handwritten leaflet, a crude scribbling with only two words, "DURENDALE DOG."

I am ready to move to the next week whenever.

"I’ll mull over what you gave me, and if we need your help or continued testimony, we’ll send another letter.”

"Thank you. I'll be happy to do anything I can. What I witnessed was horrible and those responsible should be punished." Halcyon pauses, considering sharing what she's learned about the spymaster, but decides this one might be better to keep to herself until she has more substantial information. Doubtless someone from the guard has already visited Luc Gardiner's manor and learned what she already knows. And they also ought to know something about the gang using mirrors to do nefarious things that same night. Halcyon makes a polite exit.

So the reading did not really tell her anything she did not already suspect, which was often the case when she did readings for herself, still it focused her on a few ideas for the future of her investigation.

When Casimir finished and revealed his results obliquely, she thanked him and said. I have learned much, even though you could not do as I asked. May I offer you something to offset the time you spent teaching me something about the art of divination?

Jean-Tom runs out of fingers to count on when trying to list possible enemies of the Spymaster: Other members of Council. Druids who resented his actions. Aspiring politicians. Galatian Spies. Guard Special Forces. People against magical regulation. The list goes on. He tells you that he could check for any particularly nasty vendettas, but for a member of Council, and a Spymaster at that, he isn’t the most favored person in Roland.

"You mentioned guard special forces. When those people came through the mirror and discovered we had the mirror in Marcus' tavern, they first identified themselves as some kind of special forces. That might have just been a smokescreen to try to make us leave them to their plot, but it makes me wonder. Why would the guard special forces have a problem with the spymaster? Do you know?"

When she got to the garden, she was surprised at how warm the place was and removed her overcloak and tucked it into a rucksack she wore. She let Mako lead her to Vincent. When he asked her if she was enjoying her day, she said, "I never really enjoy a walk in the winter air, but now, I'm much more comfortable, almost hot." Double entendre intended. A bluff roll = to her Charisma to see if he gets it. She lets Vincent take the lead and greet her with whatever degree of physical contact he is comfortable with, remembering her sisters' advice to let the man control the pace of a relationship.

Halcyon enjoys the walk with Vincent, the lovely garden sights and smells. When Vincent asks how much she wants him to guide her, she says, "Best we keep up appearances. I was mentioned in one of Mirabelle Zephirine's tracts, The Word on the Wind. But if no one seems to be observing us, we can relax and enjoy ourselves as we prefer."

When Vincent wonders on the origin of one of the cactus plants, Halcyon reminds him, "I could probably tell you if I put my mind to it, as you know. Let me know if your curiosity requires an answer."

She marvels at the many wonders inside Gardinier’s Garden. She glances at Mako to see if the dog gives any notice of picking up the same scent as was on the cloak she borrowed. When the elf asked her if their visit was their first, she answers (if Vincent does not speak first), "Our first, yes," she cocks her head at Vincent to see if he concurs. "I'm new to the city and have been told by more than one to visit the gardens of Luc Gardinier. Now I see why. Is M. Gardinier here today?"

Skills:
Bluff +15, Linguistics + 10, Diplomacy +10, Knowledge (Local) +10, Knowledge (Noble) +10

Abilities:

• Web of Intrigue
  When using a Knowledge Check to research a person, Emile de Beaux also relays any known connections and associations to other players and NPCs. For every connection an individual has to a known connection of Emile's, he gains a cumulative +2 Bonus on his Knowledge check.
  
• Honeyed Words
  When Emile rolls a bluff check, he rolls twice and takes the better result. He may use this ability in conjunction with Pactmaster, if applicable.
  
• Pactmaster
  Emile adds his Linguistic modifier to any Skill Check regarding negotiating agreements, pacts, promises or deals.
  Emile only acts as a contact to Raphael as long as they remain in pact with each other. Breaking the agreed contract causes Emile to no longer assist Raphael until the terms are re-negotiated.