With that slice, the remaining snake falls! Now that the peril of imminent attack has abated, you search the room thoroughly. Inside a cement block at the bottom of a statue, you find a secret compartment in the intact statues base. The compartment contains several items, including a burial mask carved from lapis lazuli worth 500 gp, three clay tablets describing funerary practices, and a rod of the viper carved from a single piece of petrified wood to look like a fanged serpent. In addition, the third clay tablet is a scroll with the spells deathwatch and false life.
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Farzinel settles in for the evening. Preparing for the next day’s task, he notes what he previously recalled about Ionacu Lozar, the Sinomakti School of Science, and the Pillars of the Sun.
”Presumably,” the elf postulates, “It will not be difficult to locate this scholar, Lozar, assuming he is already in here in Eto. The town is not that large, at least by human standards. Scholars are rarely known for their opulent lifestyles, so he has most likely sought lodging of modest means. His personal effects are likely to be with him.”
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Farzinel smiles at the bat. ”Patience, Kadri.” he says in a soothing voice. He then reaches down towards the backpack that contains his belongings.
As the wizard’s hand disappears into the sack, he resumes his regular speaking voice and continues to address the party . “At present, I anticipate that we should be able to complete the task with a simple distraction. We draw the scholar away from his room and belongings for a short while. It is quite possible that he may be drawn by a promise of scholarly debate or discussion. As a scholar myself, I suppose I am adequate for such a task as it would require little pretending on my part.”
The elf’s hand reappears and is now holding a small piece of dark, round fruit. ”If such scholarly pursuits are insufficient, then Iago’s command of social circumstances would likely suit us well. We could equally rely upon a promise of an unique ale recipe from our dwarf or simply a threat of wanton destruction from the cleric in order to draw the man from his room and occupy him for a time.”
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"Then," Farzinel concludes, "A more stealthy member of party, presumably Stormy in an animal form, could enter the scholar's room, place the book among his belongings, and depart without detection."
Farzinel pulls out his spellbook and begins to look through it. "A message spell will allow us to maintain communication during the task and provide a quick warning should the distraction fail to work as long as anticipated." The wizard flips a few more pages. "Likewise, I have a couple of illusion spells to trick ear and eye should further distraction be necessary." He closes the book. "Mage hand should also be useful, should our plan be altered and circumstances require me to place the book."
"I am, of course, welcome to any other ideas." says the elf "Otherwise, I will get some rest and prepare my spells. In the meantime, if any of you have means to learn more about Lozar, including his itinerary, it would be most useful."
With minimal inquiry you are able to locate Ionacu Lozar, whose caravan is parked near the market district. More than a dozen camels are tethered outside a large pavilion tent while a score of porters pack supplies for what looks to be a grand archeological expedition. Crates of tools, coils of rope, and sacks of dried food lie in piles waiting to divided up among the beasts of burden. Within the sumptuously appointed pavilion, stacks of scrolls and hand-drawn maps lie strewn across a canopied bed. A tall, dark haired northerner with a thick eastern accent and persistent scowl supervises the storm of activity while checking over an inventory scrawled in a well-worn ledger. “Where are those amphorae of water? This expedition won’t last a week in the Pillars of the Sun without water!”
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"I think we could probably learn more about our man once we can actually find him. Talk to the people around him. Figure him out. In my experience, scholars are terrible at being social" replies Iago with a grin, before tipping his ale to the others, drinking it down and pushing his chair back under the table. "And so, unless someone wants to talk more about what tomorrow holds, I'm off to bed."
Still chomping down on salt pork, Iago looks at the caravan preparations, looks back to Farzinel, back to the caravan and then to Kadri the bat. "I hope you're learning something here about overthinking things." He chuckles, good naturedly, before saying: "I'm going to shoot the breeze with the porters, see what they have to say about our guy. I'd avoid talking to him until I know whether he''s afraid of bats. I mean, it looks like he's afraid of getting out in the sun by his tan."
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Nitre had never been good in overly social situations; her nervous manner often puts people off. It always did more harm than good.
She stays somewhat in Farzinel's orbit as she tries to otherwise stay out of everyone's way. She just keeps reminding herself to keep her mouth shut and let the folks who were good at it do the talking.
Speaking to the porters, Iago learns that Iocanu offended some of the merchants in the bazaar. As a result, delivery of his supplies has been delayed, and his frustration is clearly evident. He feels that he could discuss speaking to the merchants on the archaeologist's behalf might persuade him, otherwise there are the obvious sneaky and subversive options as well.
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Returning to the others, Iago reports: "Well, looks like our man is even worse than our apocalypse-wishing northman here, at least when it comes to saying "please", "thank you" and "that's so nice!". Merchants are holding back his stuff. I could go talk to them and convince them to give him his supplies, giving us an excuse to be around his stuff. Or, someone could... Sneak around? Maybe?"
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Concluding that what he knows about Osirian merchants and expeditions travelling through his homeland is likely to help Iago fashion a tentative agreement, Farzinel accompanies the human. However, he notes, most of the agreements that I know of take months, even years, to reach--but then again, things do seem to move much more quickly among the humans.
The servants think that first you should approach Ionacu before trying to resolve things on his behalf, rather than speaking for him without his permission in the event you make things worse. It might also be an opportunity to let him know why you want to help him out, and what you want in return.
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Hearing the thoughts of the servants and the suggestion to return again to Ionacu, Farzinel has a revelation of sorts.
This repetitive back-and-forth, back-and-forth among the humans appears to be something that they truly enjoy, concludes the elf. Not only does it explain the servants' suggested course of action, but also the humans' strange fascination with certain...what did they call them? Ah, yes.... "Sports". Even from a young age, humans seem to be drawn to their "seesaws", their "swings", their "shuffling boards", and that one with unusual, round-headed clubs... or was it nets?... that I believe the one human referred to as "tennis".
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Iago sighs, and nods. "Very well." He looks back to the others and continues: "If you see me put my foot in my mouth, please jump on in."
Rolling his head around his collarbone, Iago steps up to the grouchy archeologist. "MYLORD IONACU! WHAT A PLEASURE TO MEET YOU!" he shouts with a smile he doesn't really feel. "Iago Dalamitri, Pathfinder Agent, Expert Tomb Delver" he continues, as he grabs the man's hand to shake it. "It is so good to finally make your acquaintance! Nice to see others are going into the desert! Whose tomb are you trying to locate? I would avoid An-Hepsu the Third, the Pharaoh of Extravagance. He ended up broke well before his death, and they built him a very small pyramid somewhere in the far south. They say it was so small, they folded him up before closing it." he guffaws and slaps him across the back. "JUST KIDDING. He's actually the Pharaoh of Stone Silence. He had his lover petrify his entire family upon his death. Neat huh?"
He chuckles and motions for whoever has the book to step on up. "Anyway, I heard you had trouble with the local merchants. I feel bad for you; as fellow explorers we should help each other. So tell you what. My team and I are stumped by this book here. It was given to us and has some sort of hidden meaning. Could you take a look at it on your journey there? Your more scholarly bent is just what we need. And, while you do that, I'll go talk to those merchants and figure out if I can cool their heads, help you get on your way?"
As Ionacu appears to have a keen sense for mistruths, you decide to take a kind approach. The first two speakers do not quite sway him, but something about Theld makes the man want to accede to your request. "Very well, yes, I have so little time, but if you can get me out of here sooner then I will take a look at this book you have."
When approaching the merchants thereafter, you think that a similar approach here would serve you best.
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"Very well, yes, I have so little time, but if you can get me out of here sooner then I will take a look at this book you have."
When approaching the merchants thereafter, you think that a similar approach here would serve you best.
More of the "tennis", thinks Farzinel, if perhaps a bit anachronistically.
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Iago sighs and moves up to the merchants.
"Hello! I am Iago, a member of the Pathfinder society. We've heard that you have a problematic northerner, a rude man with no concept of what it is to do business in Osirion. Well. Allow me to tell you that some people never learn, and their mere presence is a thorn in the spirit of of all who do business. Perhaps it might be best to give him what he needs just so that your tranquility may once again return to you and that business can continue as it is meant to be."
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"My friend, Iago, speaks the truth." offers Farzinel. "Along those lines, based upon findings by past expeditions sponsored by our organization, I would anticipate that the number of exploratory and archeological undertakings funded by the Pathfinder Society will only increase in the coming years. Such endeavors require sufficient provisions and goods, particularly those of high quality such as you no doubt provide."
"Indeed, our small band, itself, will require some new provisions shortly, once our business here in Eto has ended." The wizard pulls the make-shift bat perch from his pack. "Observing how the local markets treat presently other explorers, helps us and other members of the Society make better business decisions in the future."
Iago and Farzinel convince the merchants that they would be better served by getting this man out of their hair. The deliveries are arranged in short order, so that he can be on his way the next sunup rather than a few days hence.
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"My friend! Who has two thumbs and just got your little problem taken care of?"
Iago takes both his thumbs to point at himself. "THIS GUY! So now that we've helped you, maybe you can help us? I understand deciphering the prayers within and figuring out any double meaning will take a while, but we know where we can find you right? And you know where to find us! Send messages to Kreighton Shaine at the Pathfinder Society Headquarters in Absalom. It's the big island in the middle of the Inner Sea. Sort of. If you get confused, ask anyone who wants to become a god, they'll guide you there. Send us messages with your findings whenever you can!"
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"We pray that both your expedition and investigation into the book are most enlightening. Few would be up to just one of these tasks and, yet, you clearly have the depth of knowledge and skill to do both. We do not wish to see your expedition delayed any further. To use a human phrase, 'Happy trails'!"
His problems taken care of, though slightly skeptical, Ionacu is happy to take the book from you. He promises to pore over it on his travels and get back to you. "Yes, thank you Mr. Shane, this expedition will result in tremendous discoveries, I am sure!"
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"Oooooh, I don't care. This is getting to be so fun! I'm learning so much from you guys. You talk to people soooooo good. I've never been good at that. That's why I kept my mouth shut back there!" Her eagerness seems genuine, her prior hesitance over the legality of some of their choices seemingly forgotten in the wake of this success--at least for the moment.
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"I am 100% behind going to meet some dancers" says Iago with a smile. As they walk along towards their next destination, Iago does stride up besides Nitre and says: "You know, even though you might not talk very well, sometimes, just talking along with someone who is good with words can help. And if you make a fool of yourself, they are usually paying attention to the guy who is good with words so it doesn't matter."
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Farzinel nods in agreement with Iago. "I have learned in the study of writings, both ancient and arcane, that words are given greater power by their timing than their number. Even a single, well-timed word from a person, perhaps particularly from one who speaks rather infrequently, can often have a tremendous impact; such could turn the tide of battle, dethrone a monarch, or make hope appear where before it was non-existent."
The scholar adds, "History if full of examples in which the decisions of groups of people to remain silent have resulted in the infliction of far greater harm that could have been curbed or avoided had they instead decided to speak."
A spectacularly groomed garden of colorful sand occupies most of this two-story cabaret’s ground floor. A narrow wooden bridge winds about a trio of decorative obelisks dotting the miniature desert. A lavish sitting area filled with divans occupies the second-floor balcony granting a magnificent view of the garden below. Private curtained chambers encircle the garden, where lush rugs, soft mattresses, or piles of throw pillows serve to cushion the repose of clientele in each chamber. A door off the northern balcony opens to a staircase leading down to the street, while another set of stairs to the east leads down to the garden. Entering the Dancing Dunes during the day is free, but staying for a performance or entering after sundown costs one gold piece. The servants insist on weapons being peace-bound, increasing the time it takes to draw a weapon to a full-round action.
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As the party approaches the Dancing Dunes, Farzinel notes, "I've heard that Madame Zelekhati recently began hiring more workers at the Dancing Dunes, though she sends away most who don’t have at least some elven blood. I suppose I could try and pose as a potential hiree, though my skills at deception are rather limited and if the open positions are for dancers, then I have little to offer her. In the alternative, I suppose a group of adventurers entering the establishment and sampling the wares would not drive suspicion, as long as we at least if we appear to be following the rules for keeping weapons peace-bound. Do any of you have any suggestions on how we should approach this task?"
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"Well, Farzinel, you're no normal elf! Not many have your coloring. Whether you're good enough or not to get hired, she'd surely want to meet with you, right?"
"Why don't you go in and try to get an interview. But really you'll secretly be interviewing her! One or two of us could go along with you, you know, as friends who are there to support you. Find out what you can and then we all come back for a performance later tonight, like you said... peace-bound."