Ruins of Pathfinder: Road to Damnation (Inactive)

Game Master Crustypeanut

"You speak of divine battles waged in the heavens and the realms beyond our life, yet you have made no mention of your own faith? To which banner have you been called? There are many paths in this life and faith is only useful if it is placed correctly."

"I am Aluriel. I serve... The young redhead seems confused, struggling to reach a memory lost deep in her mind.

"I fight for the forces of Light, for Heaven... She clearly wants to say more, but seems lost as her memories flutter just out of her grasp.

Rising, she once again walks to the window, gazing out at the noon sun and the guards outside. Thinking, her brow furrowed in concentration, she seems to have forgotten about the conversation being carried on as well as the others in the room.

Gi'chak sullenly sits in his chair as the other's talk around him, brooding on Sasbrek's insults, and like Jack growing impatient. Surely it was beyond noon now and the time of the appointment? He looks around as the others introduce themselves, noting the draconic creature's prickliness regarding his claim, despite that none challenged it.

"I am Gi'chak; lately of Alkenstar in the Mana Wastes." he offers, but doesn't elaborate. The siblings had decided early on not to make mention of their origin; Usaro was a dread place known even in such distant, 'civilized' lands such as this. They had no wish to associate themselves with that reputation.

Cough. Cough.

As the arrivals sit, drink, introduce themselves and banter amongst each other, they hear a loud coughing sound coming from somewhere in the room, causing everyone in it to suddenly go quiet. Seeing as all of the servants have already left the room, each person look around at the others and quickly come to the conclusion that none of them coughed, yet all clearly heard it.

However, any inquiries to the matter are quickly cut short as one of the doors to the dining room opens with a flourish, revealing the massive frame of the man that can only be Halib. His girth, big enough to rival an ogre, fills the door's frame. The man is wearing a luxurious set of silk clothing, on which is sewn numerous symbols of Abadar; Each of his sausage-like fingers is lavishly adorned with golden rings with assorted gemstones, and hanging from his neck is an exquisite platinum holy symbol of Abadar, the chain of which is currently enveloped by one of Halib's numerous chins.

The behemoth, entering the room, raises his arms in welcome, his face beaming with a wide smile as he acknowledges everyone. "Greetings! Greetings! I apologize sincerely for the delay! I do hope each of you enjoyed my servants' hospitality during your wait!" Halib speaks in clear Taldane with a slight accent, though he also sounds as if he is wheezing constantly; The man is obviously in poor physical health, and likely gets exhausted just walking around his home. Waddling to his chair, which one of his servants quickly moves to and pulls out for him, he motions for everyone to be seated if they are not already, as he does so himself. The reinforced chair creaks with the weight of his girth, though miraculously, it holds.

Clearing his throat, he loses his overly-friendly attitude and gets down to business. "As you are all aware, I have brought each of you here for a job opportunity of a lifetime. An associate of mine, one Professor Archibald, is seeking to employ adventurers to accompany him on an expedition into the deserts of Osirion. He had been observing the traffic through the region for a while now, and throughout that time he has picked those who have peaked his interest: You. Each of you have skills that interest the Professor." Clearing his throat of more mucus and wiping his mouth with a dainty napkin, Halib continues; "The Professor is unable to be with us at this time due to other matters that require his attention, and wished to apologize for his absense. As his representative, I will be offering you employment in his stead."

As he finishes speaking, he motions for one of the servants, who promptly heads into the other room, returning momentarily with seven other servants; each one of them bears a silver platter, upon which is a tiny, ornate brass-bound chest, sealed with a complex, internally built locking mechanism. As they might offer the night's dinner on a platter, each servant lays down their platter in front of each of the guests. Beside the chest lays a matching brass key on a small napkin, and leaning against the front of the chest is a sealed letter, each with the recipient's name written on it. On the side opposite to the key sits a small ink vial, complete with royal blue ink, and a peacock-feather pen.

"Obviously, each of you are thinking how this opportunity benefits you. Professor Archibald has tasked me with offering you your payment; Inside each of these chests is your forward payment, should you accept his offer. To accompany the single coin each of you recieved earlier this morning, your forward payment consists of one-hundred and ninety-nine platinum coins; However, before agreeing, please see the accompanying contract. Upon each is written the terms of your employment as well as your payment upon completion of the expedition. Should you agree, I would ask that you sign the bottom of the contract; At which point, the chest and coins are yours. Once everyone has done so, or those who choose not to have left, I will explain what the Professor has asked me to detail to you in regards to preparing for the expedition."
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For sanity's reasons, I won't be going through the exact contract - however, I will be noting the highlights that are common amongst everyone's contracts here. Individual changes will be seen in each person's specific spoiler.

ALSO, I would like to make sure everyone knows that your characters do not make the connection that Professor Archibald is Dr. Pinkerton; unless you succeeded on the Knowledge(Local) Roll. You all also know that Dr. Pinkerton left the day before the feast (As I sadly had forgotten to include that bit of info) As a result, only Gi'Chak and Jack make the connection.

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Don't forget I can roll all knowledge skills untrained.

Knowledge (Local): 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (20) + 3 = 23

DAYUM! Nexander thinks as the sum is mentioned. That's as much as all my gear cost just in the initial offering.

Hmm...I heard that Pinkerton guy left town yesterday. I didn't see any expedition though. Now mysteriously this "Professor Archibald" shows up. Five platty says they're the same dude.

Nexander carefully reads over the contract, noting its linguistic tricks. "Excuse me, Master Halib, but this contract is rather vague as to the duration of our expedition and our destination. Where will we be going? How long do you expect we'll be gone?" The dark skinned bard smiled in a way that said "I'm not an idiot". "You're offering a lot of platinum, but it won't mean anything if we're all dead and can't collect." Nexander twirls the peacock feather quill through his long dextrous fingers while he waits for Halib's reply.

Unafe's heart speeds up as her eyes move over the document. Experts that know about the Two-Hearted, who could figure out what went wrong?...400 Platinum?...written in Druidic?...What could all of this--

She gets to the end and starts over, willing herself to read it slowly...but her blood is still pumping too fast for her to concentrate on the details. She picks up the quill and starts to open the ink when she hears Nexander's questions.

This has to be where I'm supposed to be now, what I'm being led toward. It has to. But Xander asks smart questions. The wise course is to be patient here and wait for the Halib's reply.

Sasbrek knows a thing or two about the usefulness of invisibility – his long hitched ride from Kibwe to Quantium would have been impossible without it. His gaze darts around the huge figure of Halib, hoping to see someone cloaked by magic revel his presence – a print on a fluffy carpet, a fly buzzing around a specific point in the air.

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (7) + 6 = 13

Turning his attention back to the contract, he grins. Now this Draconic is flawless, unlike the greeting from the servant – but unfortunately Sasbrek only recently learned to read, and the linguistic finesse is lost on him.
Two hundred platinum coins… I will have a true hoard! his forked tongue flashes in and out of his mouth, as if he could taste the treasure That is a first step in my apotheosis! Sasbrek is really happy. He figures once the ascension to full dragonhood is triggered, he won’t need any help against the Serpentfolk but maybe this organization can provide me with thralls and minions! That’s right, dragons have minions! Yes, this is a great deal. he grabs in his clawed hand the quill and dips it into the ink, when Nexander exposes his doubts.

“Bah!” says Sasbrek, without waiting for a reply from Halib “There is danger, and the mighty creatures that crush dangers! I do not share the fear of the brown-skinned bigfeet!” he proclaims a bit too loudly “Nothing escapes a dragon! Nothing.” he says the last word gazing intensely at the empty space where he thinks it is most likely someone invisible is hiding. “I will sign and claim my hoard!” he does so, staining with ink both his hand and the exquisite floor.

Jack reads the contract with a smirk on his face, barely noticing that it's written in Elven. At a certain points, languages seem to just blend into one another. A set of patterns to be memorized only made easier with similar alphabets. Not a problem.

Eight-hundred platinum? A large sum, no doubt. Added to his current two-hundred and you've gotten yourself a decent chunk of change. More than enough to win over Jack's favor, though it does seem to him that Mr. Pinkerton is taking drastic steps to ensure any partakers remain under the contract until who-knows-when doing who-knows-what.

Jack gives the others a moment to finish reading their contract before Nexander speaks up. 'Ah, a smart man. Just how I was wanting to begin.'

"Yes, yes. Mr. Pinkerton, you seem to be rather... Blunt in your direction of attention to how unlikely we will be to get away with breaking this contract. That only adds to our suspicion." Jack spoke as if the connection to Mr. Pinkerton had been common knowledge, almost giving off the air that anyone who hadn't made such a connection is foolish.

Not missing a beat, Jack darts his eyes to the direction from which he heard the cough. "Hiding someone or something in this room with us without allowing us to be formally aware of it doesn't help much either. If you were going to do this, couldn't you have at least chosen someone in good health? You aren't dealing with fools here, Pinkerton. At least a couple of us know the meaning of business."

Jack nods toward Nexander and leans back in his chair rather nonchalantly for a man of such direct statements. Honestly, though, he was used to it at this point.

Thorgrim eyes Halib with a disgust he makes no effort to conceal, host or not. The world falls to death, famine, and war all around them. Entire nations toppled in an instant by the appearance of ancient terrors, common people brought to heel or crushed beneath it—and here sits this pudgy fool, safe and still swaddled in comforts far in excess of what he deserves. So engorged on his own insatiable gluttony that he can barely manage a circuit around his own manor. Pathetic. Those with abundance alone possess the means of turning the tide. Those in power alone possess the authority to give aid to the besieged peoples of the world. Perhaps if they possessed as much sense as wherewithal the myriad threats would have already been dealt with. No. Instead, they clutch ever more tightly their amassed hoards and thrust faces more deeply into their frivolous comforts. Part of the Ulfen reveled in the thought of such calamities finally reaching these posh, spoiled fools, though he is then forced to grimly admit that such things cannot occur until their "lessers" have fallen before them.

His scowl deepening with every wheezing breath the fat man takes, Thorgrim forces his cold eyes to turn to the provided parchments and other offerings. That it is Skald is comforting, though not surprising. Their host has demonstrated a great capacity for imitating hospitality. He remains silent and allows the words to sink in. Skepticism is what overwhelms him. Years of dead ends and nowheres, and now suddenly a possible answer to his quandary delivered so readily and without preempting. He certainly couldn't refuse the offer, given what was at stake—even the smallest shred of there being a ring of truth to the payment demanded Thorgrim's obliging his would-be employer. In the event that it was a malformed ruse to gain his obedience, he would caution this Archibald's second.

The radiant quill seems little more than an arrow fletching in Sigurdson's thick paw. He regards the provided inkwell for a moment before confirming for himself his method of warning. Plunging the metal tip affixed to the feather into his left thumb, he allows a few trickles of blood to mix with that of the blue ink. He stirs it briefly, the royal blue taking on a more purpled shade as before he scratches out his name in a vigorous scrawl across the provided document. Thorgrim concludes his signature before allowing his eyes to rise once more to stare daggers across the table at Halib, booming voice following suit shortly to address everyone equally and levelly. "Mine blood I commit to parchment to strengthen mine own pact. Listen well, feitrkarl: if truthful this paper holds, mine service staggers tall and peerless; unfailing; unwavering. If it proves boasting to garner mine aid—lies to mislead—all responsible will stain red the walls of their homes. This pact I make clear to all present, that they know the price of treachery. Með blóði mínu, gera þetta ég sver."

Halib is the fat guy giving you guys the contract, Jack - he is Archibald/Pinkerton's representative. Basically his lawyer, I suppose.

A slow, loud clapping can be heard behind Halib, who tries to shift his swollen mass in his chair to see what it is. Unsurprisingly, he is unable to, and his attempt to do so causes the chair to further creak ominously.

"I am impressed, McAllaster!" This voice is strong and firm, and from a completely different person than Halib - his accent is wholly different from anything usually encountered in the region. The exact origin of the voice is unknown, but it seems to be coming from right behind, and to the side of, Halib. "Your skills at perception are impressive indeed, being able to pinpoint my general location as I stood invisible! Indeed, I am in good health, thank you for asking! A fly flew into my throat, as it would seem, and I was unable to stifle the following cough."

Allowing his spell of invisibility to fade, the man finally reveals himself - those present are easily able to recognize him as Dr. Pinkerton - aka Professor Archibald, as a few of them were able to recollect. Wearing a more formal suit than his traveler's outfit and sporting his cane, Pinkerton continues, "I apologize for the deceit; I wished to observe my potential hirelings without their knowing of my presence. That you were able to use my moment of weakness to catch me red-handed in the act is impressive!"

Pinkerton smiles and puts his hand on Halib's shoulder, continuing to look at the group. "As for this 'Professor Archibald' business, that is also my name; I am far more commonly known as Pinkerton, obviously, and I generally prefer to use the former when I only wish for the well-informed to know of my presence. Again, I am glad to see that not all of you were fooled by that, showing my choices were indeed, wise."

"To address Nexander's inquiries.. we will be heading into the Parched Dunes, located southwest of our current location. While I do not wish to give the specifics of the journey out just yet, do know we will be heading to an archaeological site that I seek; The journey itself will not take long, but I fully plan on staying there for about four months; Though no later, given that certain circumstances will likely render the locale buried or hidden after such a time passes." Pinkerton, to illustrate where they plan on going, speaks a word of magic, waves his hand in gesture of the spell, and procures a large, wall-sized Map of Osirion to appear on a blank space on one of the walls. Though he doesn't give a specific point in the Parched Dunes where the group is going, he does point out that its in the middle of nowhere, essentially.

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Gi'chak remains mostly silent and still as he considers the letter and the coffer before him. He's been a mercenary for long enough to recognize the vagueness of the contract as a warning sign, which only deepens his disquiet. He despises the things at the best of times--allowing words on paper to bind his actions--and normally left such things to Os'ny. Now he is on his own however and forced to slowly read through the thing. He bares his teeth at mention of his distant origins; clearly magic had been at work for Doctor-Professor Archibald Pinkerton to learn so much about himself--and no doubt the others as well... No-one this side of the barrier wall should know where he came from.

6000 gold... even 2000 was more than they had earned for any single job in the wastes, and that was for a team of the five of them. Yet this man was offering triple that to each of them. If he was wise he would take the 200 platinum and run, and yet... Theria. Had that truly been her? Was she truly gone...? He hears Nexander voice some of his own questions, but even before he gets a reply the monkey goblin is dipping pen into ink, and carefully inscribing the symbol that is his seal. He carefully sets the pen down then and leans back in his chair, closing his eyes.

They only open again when the Doctor himself reveals his presence. He is not terribly surprised; he had been distracted by his own thoughts, but that some subterfuge was in effect was obvious. It seemed that Pinkerton himself had arcane abilities, like Os'ny... He stares intently at Pinkerton, shifting his gaze when the map appears, taking in the explanation. "How will we be catching up to the rest of the caravan?"

The contract says that the payment will be made on the professor returning to Eto. I take it he would have been smart enough to clarify that it requires him to be in good health, or at the least, alive? :p

Indeed, it does! It also mentions that any missing body parts will cause the cost of a Regeneration spell to be taken out of the group's salary. Pinkerton would prefer to not have to do that, obviously..

Also I would like to add that Pinkerton displays a Holy Symbol of Pharasma that he hangs from his belt; Another symbol, the scarab symbol seen on the contract and the coins, is on a necklace he wears.

Allowing his spell of invisibility to fade, the man finally reveals himself - those present are easily able to recognize him as Dr. Pinkerton - aka Professor Archibald, as a few of them were able to recollect.

The room turns orange as Dr. Pinkerton becomes visible, as though the sun had just begun dipping below the horizon, it's fading rays bouncing off cumulus clouds never seen in these lands. Shadows spring to life on all four walls, angels and demons in combat, blades ringing on shields, the screams of the dying drowning out the voices of everyone around the table. Oblivious to the tableaux going on around them, the others continue their discussion with the Doctor.

Closing her eyes for a but a moment, Aluriel reopens them to a normal room, the conversation still going on around her. Laid out in front of her is the contract, a sigil, having been burned into the thick lambskin, still smoking around the edges.

"What will we be excavating? Do you already have people there? If so, what dangers have they faced? If not, how do you know about the location of the dig? I would like to renegotiate the contract to include a clause providing for our return to Eto after four months, and the payment of the offered reward at that time. If it becomes physically impossible for us to return to Eto somehow, then I will not hold you liable. But I am uncomfortable with selling myself into your permanent service. I am no slave. If I find your employ to still be suitable and profitable after four months, I will gladly sign another contract." Nexander's tone is very professional and respectful as he speaks. He ignores Halib now, meeting Pinkerton's eyes directly and confidently.

diplomacy: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22

Ardeshir was no wizard with laws and contracts. They had only ever caused him trouble and the two decades he'd had little use for bonds beyond those forged with handshake, blood, or fear. Had he not tried to read the original contract in Osiriani, he might have signed impulsively, his greed overpowering his good sense. Fortunately however his mastery of the Osiriani glyphs needed some work and Nexander and the Elf spoke up first, signaling clauses in the contract which were potentially troublesome.

He rolled up his contract and did his best to follow along with the conversation, his brilliant eyes widening a little when their true employer made himself visible and used additional magic to create a large map upon the empty wall. The hairs at the back of Ardeshir's neck were standing on end. There was too much deception going on for this to be a straight forward task. He had been deceived too often in his life to walk into another trap now that his eyes were open.

Offering a nod to Nexander, he made it clear that he was comfortable with the Garundi's attempts with further negotiation and amendments to the contacts. The man clearly understood the deeper mysteries of the law. He would follow the man's lead.

"The man makes an excellent point." Ardeshir said. He did not ignore their host, speaking to both the mysterious Doctor Pinkerton and the gluttonous priest of Abadar. "I have been a slave before. Your research should have told you that. It would be prudent for your researchers to recall how that previous arrangement ended."

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Aid other take 10+3 = 13 on Nexander's diplomacy

First answering Gi'Chak, Pinkerton twirls his cane momentarily, having had it up and pointed at the wall, before putting the end of it back on the ground. "We will meet them at the rendezvous point at the archaeological site, provided they make it. In essence, they are a sort of vanguard; They serve to clear the way of potential dangers and serve as a distraction for those who would love to prey on archaeologists - plenty of adventurers, less keen on archaeology and not crafty enough to find their own tombs to raid, have turned to such banditry in the deserts, since it is difficult to prove them guilty of any wrong doing. The caravan is well guarded, I assure you; They should arrive more or less intact." He turns to Nexander this time, to address his concerns next. "We will not be excavating anything, actually. I do not seek any sort of object. What I seek, in fact, is knowledge."

Completely avoiding the question of how he knows about the site, Pinkerton 's face takes on a thoughtful appearance. After a moment of thinking, he nods. "You make a good point; You are no slave, and I intended no such thing. I abhore slavery, as it would be! No, you are not selling yourself into my permanent service; However, with the chance that the expedition taking longer than four months, and myself with no capability of paying you while we're out in the middle of the desert, I would like to make a counter proposal to your own; Four months of service, as you requested, but your acknowledgement that, until I am safely returned to any city or settlement with an Abadar representative who can fulfill the contract as a legal representative, I will be unable to pay you your wages. I cannot risk bringing such money out on the expedition to pay you out in the field at the end of four months, should we not have returned by then."

At that, Halib nods and speaks up to assist Pinkerton. "Indeed! With the Church of Abadar so well ingrained in many cities and nations, that should not be a problem; Our legal contracts are valid anywhere our clergy is present; Their ability to pay the sum is more dependent on the settlement in question, obviously, as four-hundred platinum coins, or wealth equal to it, is not necessary easy to come by in the smaller settlements."

As one last afterthought, Pinkerton adds, "Should something force return to be impossible, then the contract, and your obligations to it, will be null and void; I will not force anyone into slavery because of a potential loophole."

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Only rolled the Knowledge(Religion) check for Nexander considering he's the one asking the questions - should anyone else want to make the check, feel free to.

"I would counter your counter, sir. You provide us with 100 platinum worth of bank notes at the end of each month, for four months. The notes should be redeemable at an Abadaran bank whether or not you or your representatives are present. If you can do this, then I will sign." Nexander tents his fingers in front of him, smiling pleasantly, his elbows resting on the table as he leans back in his chair. Nothing like a good negotiation.

Unafe is shocked by Pinkerton's sudden appearance...and for that matter, Jack's deduction that Pinkerton was the true sponsor of this expedition. She glances at Jack with renewed curiosity.

Listening with interest to Nexander's questions and Pinkerton's replies, she looks into the doctor's eyes to glean what she can of the man behind the words. What are his intentions here? Can he be trusted?

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (16) + 5 = 21

I plan to post later today, but I'm in a bit too much of a time bind now. I'm going to roll these and think on it a bit.

Apparently Jack doesn't know enough about the Clergy of Abadar, as that bit of info was only a DC 10! :P

Gi'chak gives a slight nod as Pinkerton answers his question, the professor either evading the intent behind the question, or misinterpreting it. The mention of it being a decoy suggests that Pinkerton was never actually on board however, rather than having returned from there to meet them today by arcane means.

He doesn't bother to push the issue, just listening to the negotiations of the others, giving his head a slight shake at their maneuverings for more money and assurances. He picks up the chest in front of him, unlocking it and looking into the wealth of platinum inside, a hand going to stroke the tail bones dangling down his chest. Would it be enough? Or would he need to wait for the rest of the payment? Os'ny would know... or Theria. Curse it all, why couldn't they be here right now with him! A pain in his hand made him realize he had a white-knuckled grip on the bones, and he slowly released it, trying to calm himself as he closed and relocked the chest.

He stashed it away in his bag, folding the original, now signed contract and placed it into it's envelope, finally tucking the translated copy into his robes, before settling down again to await the conclusion of the negotiations. He would have to speak to the professor later in private, perhaps he would have the answers... He believed he could trust the man, or surely Theria would not have set him upon this path...

Sense motive to get a general read on the professor and his trustworthyness and intentions.Gi'chak is not terribly concerned about the contract. If possible I'll take 20 (seems like he has the time), otherwise...
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 2 = 12

Uhm, not more wealth? Just paid out in even increments over a set period of time.

Jack hears the words "four-hundred platinum coins" spill out of Halib's mouth as if the words were made of precious material themselves. 'FOUR-hundred? My contract offers EIGHT-hundred. Either my mind is worth a bit more or Pinkerton really knows how to bait his crew.'

The smirk that had found itself comfortably resting on Jack's face was forced away to make room of the full-toothed smile that now made the centerpiece of his demeanor. Jack was a hygienic elf and his teeth clean, but anyone looking at him now could most likely tell that there was something a little... crooked about it. Leaning back now, he crossed his boots atop the table in front of him.

"Yes, yes. Pay us in installments. It's an excellent trust exercise, I must say. Though I imagine the paper will be easily lost in the desert and be of little use. As long as I receive my... cut, I'll be a happy man." Jack snickers at his own words. "Now, Mr. Pinkerton, I do have one question for you. How do you know so well how to... appeal to our senses? I can tell you know more about us than we'd care to share."

While the question was meant to sound legitimate, Mr. Pinkerton was bound to find it thick with innuendo. Jack knew Pinkerton was appealing to his sense of greed over everyone else's and he highly doubted he was the only person who was offered something more than the four-hundred platinum coins that was common to each contract. He didn't want to bring the topic up to everyone else in attendance, but he wanted Pinkerton to know that, if Jack was good at anything, it was getting to the bottom of things.

Curious of Pinkerton's answers to these questions, Halib turns his pumpkin of a head slightly, enough so he could see Pinkerton out of the corner of his eye. He looks thoroughly pleased that he does not have to answer these questions.

Pinkerton nods as he listens and as he thinks of a response after they finish talking. "Indeed, such bank notes would be redeemable without my presence required, Nexander. However, one of the primary reasons for my hiring of you, each of you, is to ensure that I do, in fact, make it back to the safety of civilization; Unlike the procurement of an Ancient Osiriani artifact from some long lost tome, the knowledge I seek cannot be simply delivered to an awaiting recipient, as my presence is required to not only understand this knowledge, but also how to utilize it."

Stroking his mustache momentarily, he continues, "As a result, the rewards given for each of you are to act as an incentive to ensure such an outcome." Turning to answer Jack this time, he smiles - a sincere smile, to those paying close attention. "I believe my offering of two-hundred platinum pieces before the expedition even begins is proof of my trust, is it not? Such money shouldn't be just thrown around, as it would be. By giving you each this money at the beginning, I would hope that I could prove to you that I am a man of my word. By trusting each of you, in turn, with the money that you could very well just run off with - not without consequence, though - I am taking a risk myself. Of course, should you want a little more insurance, our Ulfen friend here, Thorgrim, has personally promised to paint the walls with my blood should I be lying. Being that I would not wish to become paint, even though I know a person whose home my blood would probably match the rest of his decor, I have no intentions on reneging on my end of the bargain."

"As for how I know how to 'appeal to your senses', Jack, let us just say that I wish to know my employees before I hire them. I am quite experienced with working with adventurers. Being that there are plenty of such people who would backstab me at a moments notice, I prefer to do my research before choosing them. Despite the numerous colorful backgrounds present here, I believe all of you to be ideal candidates for this expedition. You, yourself, Jack, have already proven to be quite useful, just by trying to get every ounce of information out of me that you can; I can see that I've made the right choices."

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Any Sense Motive checks show that he is telling the truth; He is, in fact, telling the truth, and is not lying. :P In addition: He is working with a Priest of Abadar as his representative; Though the priest is obviously fond of money and likely uses loopholes to gain such money, he is a faithful follower of the God of Law. Even though Pinkerton himself follows Pharasma, he is LN as well. Those using Sense Motive can ascertain this information easily enough.

"I'm sorry, was that a yes to my proposal? It goes without saying that we would all want to return alive and well."

Looking thoughtful, realizing he did not really give a 'yes' or 'no' answer, Pinkerton strokes his mustache again for a few moments. Raising his eyebrows once he has thought of something, he continues, "I would like to offer another counter proposal; A compromise, as it would be. Instead of paying you your entire commission over the course of the four months, I shall pay you half of your reward during that time. Once I am safely returned to Eto, or another settlement that is appropriate, based on the presence of an Abadar clergyman who can assist us, the other half of your payment will be given to you. While we are on the expedition, I will pay you with bank notes, as you suggested."

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Not likely to get any better than that. Nexander's eyes narrow shrewdly as he studies Pinkerton. "Done." he says, taking the peacock quill from the ink pot and noting the requested change. He shows it to Pinkerton to make sure it's correct and then signs the new contract with a flourish. "So, when do we leave?" he asks with a grin.

For the record, we're still waiting on Jack, Ardeshir, and Unafe to sign. Should each of you wish to take the same offer Nexander requested, you may do so. Once that is done, you'll get more specific information; Though, if you three are still unhappy with the terms, feel free to continue negotiating.

Also, I'd like to add that the compromise only counts to those who signed after he made the deal - if you signed before, you're stuck with the original deal.

Sasbrek feels conflicted upon hearing Nexander’s proposal.
Paper will be easier to carry around thinks the kobold Shiny platinum is heavy. But a dragon… a dragon has a HOARD, not a collection of scribbling promising him a reward.

Scratching the green scale under his eye, the kobold thinks of an alternative. He never quite liked coins anyway. Gems, gems would be nice! If only this bigfeet traded with important stuff instead of this coins… uh, they’re shiny and beautiful, I’ll give them that…” Sasbrek keeps pondering as he turns and palms a single platinum coin in his scaly hands.

"I will take the same compromise in regards to the bank notes and the payment as was agreed to with Nexander." Ardeshir said after a few moments of thought. "However I wish an additional stipulation in my contract indicating I am not bound to take any action which would be against the will of Sarenae or her faithful. That refusing to participate on such grounds does not cause me to be in breach of our agreement and still subjects you to the full responsibility of your promises." Ardeshir tried to use the same verbage that Nexander and Jack had used, but by the look on his face it was a sour experience. He rubbed at his chin and tried to make himself seem unwavering.

He curled his fingers about the peacock feather quill in the inkwell, but did not yet draw it free, waiting for the other man to agree. His gaze focused not on Pinkerton, but on Halib, a man he suspected would be more bound by his word than the wealthy explorer.

His fingers tapped nervously on the table. He wanted to take up the offer, but if his stipulation could not be agreed upon, he knew that it was best that he refused outright. He would not jeopardize the future again over a lust for wealth.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (16) + 3 = 19

Unafe is relieved to hear Nexander come to a successful end to the negotiation. She sits for a moment, considering their new sponsor. In the end, she suspects the contract changes won't be needed; she's a good judge of character and this Pinkerton seems trustworthy...though for some reason he seems worried about paying us before we get him safely home. What does he know?

In any event, discussing details was the wise course of action. While she has a feeling that this is where she's meant to be...such feelings have proven tragically false before. "That change will be agreeable to me as well. Dr. Pinkerton, I assure you that I will be faithful in my attempts to return you safely to Eto."

She picks up her quill and signs as well, handing the contract to Pinkerton.

Jack thinks for a moment before nodding his head and continuing. "Just one more thing, big guy. You know I like gaining knowledge as much as the next guy -got quite a knack for it really-, but you know there's one thing I love more than that."

Jack pulls his boots off of the table and sits back in his chair with his elbow resting on the armrest and his hand up to his face rubbing his hardly beard that's hardly even there.

"The sum of coin you have offered is very... generous, but with any adventure comes treasure. I couldn't help but notice a lack of mention of goods that might be... obtained during this expedition. I would like a clause added stating that we may keep any such treasure." After a moment of thinking, he nods "I don't know where you're taking us, but you wouldn't need us if there wasn't a chance for death. Where there's death, there's treasure." and with that, his face returns to its natural smirk as he awaits continued negotiations.

Pinkerton nods at Ardeshir's request. "As a man of faith myself, I fully understand your worries Ardeshir - We can add that into your contract. I have worked with the Church of the Dawnflower in the past; Not once have our faiths come into conflict."

In response to Jack, Pinkerton chuckles. "Ah yes, I do suppose I failed to mention any treasure we might be coming across. I had fully intended on allowing you, as a group, to take full responsibility in who gets what in regards to treasure; The only thing I seek is the knowledge that will be gained from this expedition. Anything we find of monetary value will be yours as a group, to split as you see fit. I've always preferred to go that route with adventuring parties; They know better than I who would best benefit from each piece of treasure."

"In that case, knowledge and coin await us. I will sign your contract, Pinkerton. I'm sure it'll be more than amusing to get to know you all."

After the adjustments are made, Jack signs his name to the contract (just a little larger than everyone else).

"If the merchants and the barristers are finished, perhaps we can get on with this?"

Yeah I'm going to assume Ardeshir is alright with the new deal, so I will move us along shortly.

Thorgrim smiles—for the first time any have seen since he arrived at Halib's estate—at Aluriel's comment. It is a grim thing; one of those smiles that conveys more discomfort and awkwardness than warmth or kindness. One is left with the impression that such an expression has seldom found cause to appear on the northerner's face.

Eyes briefly settling on Aluriel as he begins speaking, the Ulfen bellows in Pinkerton's general direction, "Eldr-hærðr offers direct words and wise counsel, which mine words shall reinforce: to matters of importance. Speak what is required and let us away to fulfill, lest our host-glutton drekka what air remains." The coins were a nice incentive, but paled in comparison to what was at stake for Thorgrim. He did not know what had lured the others here, nor did he care. Only Dómrbrandr mattered. A weapon that would wipe away the stain of his father and smite The Reclaimer's armies; a blade that would topple the very Gallowspire that served as home to the Whispering Tyrant; a force that would end The Fire-Bleeder so Thorgrim could cast the ruined Spawn's husk back into the Pit that spawned it. Money mattered little in the face of such a charge.

Oh hey on that note, they put the stat block of the Whispering Tyrant in the Mythic Realms book; CR 26, MR 10. Neat stuff, it is. Anyways, post will be soon! I know I said 'shortly' yesterday, but distractions were a-distractin'.

Although not entirely understanding what the big Ulfen said, Halib's eyes narrow, knowing at least the big man was being less than polite. However, his brooding over the Thorgrim's lack of manners is overshadowed by Pinkerton's focus on getting the contracts finished up. Halib is forced to pull himself away from his annoyance by having to edit the required contracts; With each, he takes his own inkpen, no inkwell seen nearby, and somehow magically edits each contract to the required specifications; The ink on the paper twirls around and adjusts itself to its new wording, before settling back in place.

Once everyone has ensured that the contracts are written as they wished, and each are signed, Pinkerton takes each contract and, at the bottom, just below each signee, signs the contract himself, ensuring that both parties agree to the terms. On his left hand is a singular ring, a signet ring that, when pressed against the paper, leaves a glowing symbol similar to the scarab symbol seen elsewhere.

With everything in order, Halib speaks up. "Each contract will be placed in a secure vault within the Abadar Church; Should you arrive at another settlement with one of our representatives, let them know of your intentions, and they will contact the main branch in order to clarify the deal. Your payment should not take much longer after that."

Pinkerton, glad that the contracts are finalized, claps his hands. "Well then! Now that we're finished with that.." He pauses, again to recast the same spell as before to show the map to everyone, "We leave in one week; Today, as you are all aware, is Moonday, Gozran 16th; I would like everyone to be ready with their preparations by Sunday, Gozran 22nd; We will leave early, early in the morning the next day, a few hours before 'dawn', or as much dawn as we ever see nowadays. There will be camels to carry your load should you wish, although should you wish to procure your own, that is fine. Water will not be an issue for us, as an associate of mine is able to conjure up enough for the entire expedition; Not to mention that both Unafe and myself are able to summon water as well. Food, however, will be important, and although my associate can supply daily food for two to four people, it should not be entirely relied upon. As a result, bring at least four months worth of food; Should you wish to be cautious, another months' food should suffice. As for other adventuring supplies, I will let you bring what you feel you need to bring; Tents, lighting, rope, alchemical goods, etc. My own camels will be relatively laden themselves, however, so if you plan on bringing too much, I would ask you purchase your own camel or horse; My hirelings can take care of them for you, though."

Coughing again, realizing that his throat is getting dry from the talking, Pinkerton pauses a moment to drink a good helping of chilled water, before continuing. "As for hirelings yourselves; I would ask that you not hire anyone. I have personally looked into each of my own hirelings, and I know that they are trustworthy; I cannot guarantee the same for anyone you choose to hire, nor do we have the time to check. On another tidbit of related information, I would ask that none of you speak of where you are going or whom you are working with; I am known to have left the city, and I would wish to keep it that way." Should you wish to make magic items, or craft any other sort of item, please do so during the six days; While you might be able to work on some projects during our travels, we won't be stopping much until we reach our destination.

"I would also like to add of the dangers of the deserts this time of year. Sandstorms are frequent, and often disturb creatures best left undisturbed. Sand and air elementals, scorpions, all those nasty things might be encountered. I've had issues with them in the past, although this year I expect it to be the worst in over fifty years. With the archaeology season underway, gnolls will be on the prowl as well; They love attacking expeditions, often to take captives to sacrifice to their insane god. Then, of course, are the less-archaeology-minded expeditions. Should we ever be approached by anyone in the desert, do not let your guard down. Even someone simply asking for water might be trying to distract us. This time of year the deserts are at their most dangerous, so be prepared."

He stops, dismisses his spell, and looks at everyone. "Any further questions?"

You guys have six in-game days to purchase/craft until they plan on leaving. During this time I would like you guys to interact a bit as you shop; You don't have to, obviously, but it would certainly help if you each got to know each other a bit before the week is up. Real-time, we'll move on once everyone is ready; However, should we not be finished by then, I'll start bugging people about it next friday/saturday.

During this six-day period, you can craft, buy items, or make money through the downtime system; Obviously, don't worry about trying to get teams or buildings set up, and downtime goods will not be very useful, though if you wish to bring goods/magic for later crafting, I'll allow it. For making money, you don't have to use a profession/craft skill, even though its the best way; You can also try pickpocketing, singing, etc, as per the downtime rules. There will not be any encounters during this time, so do not worry about staying together. You have 2000 gp burning holes in your pockets, so go spend it! :D Also note that you can spend all of that on one item, should you wish. I'm going to have Eto's stats up as a city here shortly, on the campaign tab.

Everyone will be staying in accomodations allocated to you by Halib in his Villa; Surprisingly enough, he's not charging you for your fairly luxurious accomodations. You are all in the 'Guest House', a secondary building within the Villa's walls. Halib asks that you don't wander around much inside his home, though if you need to speak to Pinkerton or himself, that is easy enough. Food is also being provided of course - High quality food and drink, far better than what the masses get. Should you have any questions as Pinkerton asked, or wish to speak with any of the NPCs, let me know. In addition to getting the city's stats up, I'll be getting a list of NPCs posted, though unlike my S&S campaign, theres no real need to influence them.

“…you can keep that stinking fur-beast!” yells Sasbrek cleaning the camel spit from his scarf “A Trueblood does not need furry mount with shovel teeth! I will spend my hoard elsewhere!” the kobold turn his back to the camel merchant and walks away.
“Yeah, nobody will miss you, you crazy scaly midget!” yells back the merchant.

The kobold walks just a few yards – he is looking for another merchant who will sell him a proper steed, when he is approached by a lanky Keleshite man. “Most honored patron, blessings upon you!”
Sasbrek watches him suspicious “What? Hello. What do you want?”
“I may have… spotted you coming out of the mansion of Most Egregious Halib al-Shaknath, may the Gods bless his name. A man of your stature, looking for a trusty steed, yes?” the man exhibits a large smile with a golden tooth “My cousin just so happens to have a different breed of riding animals… something more akin to your fashion, yes?”

The man leads Sasbrek down a street, then another, almost to the outskirts of Eto. Sasbrek is getting impatient Does this man wish to rob me? If so, why is he waiting so long? Maybe I scared him. That must be it. He realizes he is in the presence of a dragon. his train of thought is quickly cut short by his guide.
“Here, gaze upon this magnificence of nature! I am sure there will be something to answer your requests!”
Sasbrek looks at the corral the man led him to. In it, several giant lizards peacefully lie down absorbing the sunlight, completely motionless in their relax. Sometimes, so quick that it can hardly be seen, a long tongue darts out of a lizard’s mouth and grabs a passing insect. The lizard chews his snack a couple of times and goes back to sleep.
Yes! thinks Sasbrek, gazing with glee at the animals Here, among you, is the first of my many minions!

“May I show you the gem of our collection? A mount worthy of a great man, one you certainly are?” the Keleshite man is now in company of a second one, who looks very much alike to the first, the same lanky physique and long, greasy black hair. They escort Sasbrek to a corner of the corral “This… this is what you are looking for!”

A couple of giant banded geckos, easily the size of ponies, lie on a flat rock enjoying a meal of hatchling scorpions. Between a mouthful of arachnids and the next, the beasts licks their eyeballs.

They must be MINE! thinks Sasbrek.
“Just a few coins, and they can both be yours!”
“They’re inseparable, and they come as a couple.”
“We will make you a generous discount, though. Think how proud and strong will you look riding one of them, and followed by the other!”
“People will know your power, don’t you think?”
“I know I would! I would recognize your superiority and move out of the way!”

Sasbrek looks at the merchants, then at the Gecko I shall name you Kosshorx, the Burning Scale! You will be my mount... and you… you shall be Chief Hrisskar, and carry my hoard! Eh eh! his hand goes to the large bag of platinum “Fine! How much?”
_____________________

In the end, I went with a couple of Giant Geckos. I could’ve also bought a single Giant Gecko with the Giant Template (that’s in Ultimate Equipment) but whatever.

2x Giant gecko, combat trained – 300 gp
Exotic saddle, riding 15 gp
Exotic saddle, pack 30 gp
150 x Trail rations – 75 gp
Small Tent – 10 gp

2188 – 430 = 1758 gp left

Unafe looks slowly around the room at her companions, wondering what everyone will bring to this expedition...and hoping she will be able to do her part when needed.

”Dr. Pinkerton? One question right now before we break. You’ve mentioned elementals, gnolls, and scorpions. Is there more you know about what resources we might wish we had once we’re out on this expedition? I’m wondering in particular about things like extreme temperatures, poison, disease, etc, that we might want to purchase wands, scrolls, or potions for.”

Aluriel rises from her seat at the far end of the table.

"Sir Halib, I wish to find an enchanter who works on weapons. Will one of your men please guide me to such before too much of the day passes?"

Looking around the table at everyone else, she extends an offer, "I have no idea how much food will be required to cross this desert. At the risk of sounding boring, perhaps some of you would like to combine our resources and purchase our food jointly, in a single large amount. It seems like it might be simpler, and cheaper, that way. Additionally, perhaps we could simply hire a drover rather than carrying it on our own backs."

"I expect that we will all work together on this trip and am ready to do so myself. There may have been a day when the forces of Evil all wore black armor and the forces of Good wore white. If there was, those days are long behind us. I do not care what race or even species you are, I will judge your actions, nothing more, nothing less. I fight Evil when and where I find it, but I also offer support, healing and otherwise, to those who battle it alone or by my side."

The redhead waits to see what others have to say before leaving the table.

Nodding and stroking his mustache as Unafe speaks, he waits patiently until she finishes. "Good questions, Unafe. Obviously, the desert heat will be a factor - its not going to be getting any colder any time soon I'm afraid, though I would always welcome cooler weather. Poisons should primarily only be an issue should we come across any scorpions - obviously, they're common enough out there that it is a reasonable assumption - and they're big enough for their poison to be quite dangerous even beyond their equally big pincers. Diseases.. are less common, except in some of the tombs. Curses are a fairly common part of tomb exploration as well - I've seen some nasty ones in my time."

At Aluriel's comments, Pinkerton raises his eyebrows, curious at her comments with good and evil. At her mentioning of hiring a driver however, he interjects. "No need to hire any drivers, Aluriel; Should any of you purchase any kind of animal that needs directing, one of my own drivers can handle it. Halib, I'm sure you know of a fine weaponsmith within your clergy, do you not?"

His fat bouncing with the nod of his head, Halib motions for one of his servants. "اصطحابها إلى المعبد. تكون سريعة حول هذا الموضوع." The boy bows, and waits for Aluriel, seeming rather intimidated by her presence. Halib turns back to Aluriel. "We have numerous fine craftsmen at the Temple of Abadar - tell them I sent you, and they'll get you anything you need, or show you to those who can - for a price, obviously."

__________________________________

Unafe thanks Pinkerton, and then leans in toward Nexander, speaking quietly. "Xander. It seems a few wands that can provide for healing would be a wise purchase, and perhaps a few key scrolls as well, if we meet the kind of adversity Pinkerton is describing. Is there any sort of custom, for adventuring groups like this, where most of us are strangers to one another and no one person has offered to be responsible for all others' healing? How do such objects of the group's benefit get paid for?"

"Don't know, I've only been in one adventuring group before, and they all died before we got any loot," Nexander whispers back to Unafe. He stands up to address everyone in the meeting, "I can activate wands with the cure light wounds spell, but I won't be paying for the whole thing unless I will be the only one using it. If everyone pitches in 186 gold pieces we can purchase two wands of healing to be passed around and used on whoever needs them. Can we do that everyone? Seems like the easiest and most fair way to me."

Unafe's eyes widen when Xander says "...and they all died..." Oh dear. I'll have to ask for that story later...and hope that we can learn from their fate.

She leans forward -- elbows on the table, chin resting in hands, head tilted -- and listens to Xander's proposal.

"I'd certainly be happy to pitch in my fair share, and would be willing to wield one of the wands as well if folks would like." She looks around at the rest of the assembled group and then realizes, amazed, "Hey! Did you know that price off the top of your head?!?"

Of course the purchase of the geckos will occur later

“I’ve been in one too!” interrupts Sasbrek when Unafe and Xander starts talking about adventuring groups! “We went from Quantium to the ruins of Sothis and… they all died too… but it wasn’t my fault!” he remarks, just in case someone was about to accuse him.

“They gave me this!” he shows a short wand of polished cherry wood “Kilimerey said that adventurers shared resources… so what will you give me?”

"What's in the wand?" Nexander asks, raising one eyebrow at the contrary little "dragon". He seems a prickly sort so far. Wonder why he thinks he's a dragon?

Aluriel reaches into her box, pulls out 19 shiny platinum coins and hands them to Nexander.

"I will gladly pitch in for such a cause. This is all of the free money I have currently and so scrolls or other items will need to wait."

Looking to the servant, Aluriel nods that she is ready to proceed.

"I will be back before dark and plan to dine here. If any other plans need be made, I will give my counsel then."

Aluriel will probably need to leave her fauchard at the enchanters. She will ask to be loaned a long spear while her weapon is being enchanted, in case any slavers try to attack her, knock on the manor door or come within eyesight.

Gi'chak drums out a rhythm on the arm of his chair as the negotiations finally come to an end. He frowns as the Professor informs them that they would not be leaving for another week. True he had the money to spend but... he absently fingers his bone necklace again...

Well it seems he would have to buy food at the least, and something to transport it. Hmm... He had not had cause to interact much with animals. Theria normally handled such things, and the siblings preferred to trust to their own limbs, or else hitch lifts on wagons...

He focused back in on the current conversation as Aluriel made a suggestion of pooling their resources. Gi'chak could certainly appreciate that, they had shared everything in their band, and having access to Theria and En-ril's Divine abilities, and Os'ny's arcane might had gotten them out of many scrapes, perhaps the greatest of them the serpentfolk attack that had nearly wiped them out... He nods approvingly of Aluriel's statement, listening as the others added to it; wands of healing and scrolls to cure bodily afflictions. Good, sensible precautions; but... he was not sure he could trust these others, certainly not as he had trusted his siblings.

When Aluriel produces her coins he is not far behind her, to earn trust in others one must first be willing to show it themselves... he adds his 19 platinum to the pot. "We are to work together, so we should do our best to cooperate..." he manages to resist the urge to glare across at Sasbrek. He would still have to deal with him...

-=-=-=-=-=-

Dusty Eto Street, Mid Afternoon

Gi'chak stares down at Sasbrek as he returns from his dealings with the Keleshite cousins. He had been shadowing the kobold since he had left Halib's, a shadow on the rooftops, his pale robes blending well with the sand covered tiles; just like all the other clumsy humans it never seemed to occur to the little dragon to look up, had this been the jungle he would have made a tasty snack for a hungry cat...

The only warning the kobold receives is a brief darkening on the sun before Gi'chak lands atop him. The goblin's foot drive's itself into the kobold's stomach. So focused had Gi'chak been on landing upon the kobold that he completely neglects to follow it up, instead jumping backwards to land nimbly on his feet. He seems momentarily confused to find himself simply standing next the the kobold, but he quickly regains his equilibrium, and settles into a crouch, glaring at the kobold. "I have no quarrel with your kind, but I do not accept insults. We are to work together... apologize." he demands.

_________________________

Stealth: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (18) + 16 = 34
Acrobatics: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (20) + 12 = 32
Grapple: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2
Huh... Should be interesting. You want to play this out in more or less combat speed, or go for something a bit more fluid? I guess it depends how Sasbrek reacts :p