War for the Crown with DM Vayelan

Game Master vayelan

"Well, well, well," says Tanglefoot, "You've got your hands in a lot of baskets, Lady Lotheed. A natural born daughter taking control of her family, what a scandal."

He stands, almost as if to go, but then he leans over and places his hands on the table, fingers spread. "I relish scandal." He laughs, a deep, mirthful belly-laugh.

"I think I'd be well-equipped as a spy. In fact, I could probably get close to the Most High Strategerian by just being myself. That is, I mean the self that plays the fool. Like servants, fools are always seen but never noticed." He looks down at his clothing. "I guess I may not get to look pretty today after all. Motley maketh man. Perhaps you could make arrangements for me to entertain Sublime Tactician Pissarius."

He suddenly drops all smiles and takes on a face of extreme seriousness, that is immediately seen as clearly and blatantly mock seriousness.

"There is but a single problem I have with this entire enterprise, but unfortunately it is a major problem. All the tasks you have set before us, though of questionable legality as has been mentioned, are acceptable sins in the face of the great injustices we are fighting to overcome, save one. All are acceptable means to the most just end of ending primogeniture, and reforming Taldor's government in such a way as to restore our nation to the shining city on the hill that it once was, in the days of Aroden, and Iomedae, and General Arnisant..." he nods gravely at Olivia, "...all save one."

"The aristocracy, I've always said, is a noble joke. However, wine is no laughing matter. I have always been a godly man, and this planned sabotage, this poisoning of the bottle, would be a mortal sin against my lord and savior Cayden Cailean. Ruining a 150-year old vintage of Opparos is akin to burning down a museum. It matters not who you're embarrassing, or how high and noble the goal you wish to accomplish. It cannot be borne." Throughout his speech his hands are animated, and this last part he gives with the grandest of rhetorical flourishes.

He then drops all pretense and lets out another chortle.

"I jest, of course, though only halfway. Is there really no other way to embarrass those fops without ruining some good wine? Please don't tell me it's a 4566, or I might actually be struck down by Cayden for associating with even the idea of doing this."

Part of Amandine's agreeing to take care of the wine and donated items had been her working out a contingency plan for herself if things went sour or there was some threat of violence. As she took the measure of the various people gathered at the table, it was easy for her to decide what to do. She would stick to Olivia like her shadow.

When tensions begin to rise between Olivia and Martella Lotheed over what would be done with her family's relics, Amandine doesn't want to be caught in the middle, having to decide between protection and purse.

Amandine places her hand on Olivia's and gives it a gentle squeeze, a gesture of reassurance that promises nothing in particular. She also changes the topic with Marcella to something she believes will be most distracting to her.

"Your mechanical insect, how does it work? Is it mechanical only, relying on noise interference to obscure the particulars of our conversation? Or is there a magical aspect to it as well?"

I am a bit uncomfortable with that leap Chana, you might not even know what a vampire is IC. Knowledge checks for things like that in future please.

Martella quirks a brow and gives Chana a sidelong look,

"I have no reason to suppose so, but Soul Stimulant is not really for dealing with vampires, there are several lesser undead that assault the soul, and doubtless other things besides. I have no interest in the silver dagger, other than to utilise its loss to embarrass a political rival. The Senates wards ought to prevent any such creatures encroaching upon it, but I have been wrong before. Should you face a vampire I suggest you do what it tells you, from the little I know you would not be such a creatures match."

Martella smiles, "I am afraid it is a good vintage Master Tanglefoot, if you can somehow replace the good with bad without being caught you are welcome to do so, but I think it would prove a difficult if potentially rewarding task."

AP says it has an aura of divination, but that appears to make no sense given the items description and the fact that Martella made it and has no magic so I am saying purely mechanical.

"An invention of mine it is entirely mechanical, you simply wide it and the sound it emits is pitched to a frequency that while no especially distracting prevents eavesdropping from a distance over 5 metres or so. Of course this fellow is a prototype and thus requires occasional coaxing," Martella says fondly glancing at her creation.

@GMPoD: Gotcha, I've played in games recently where things like 'a skeleton is weak to bludgeoning', 'a vampire energy drains you' and 'swarms are weak to area damage' are common knowledge and don't need skill checks.

'Can't take a joke, stuck up, scheming, and a good liar. She seems like a wonderful noblewoman, huh Snips? Even if primogeniture got slammed, I'd be happy not to have her swaggerin' about.'

"Just a joke Ms. Lotheed." She raises a hand and waves it in apology. "Only vampires there will be the ones that get a vote~" She picks up the handle of her parasol and turns it over in her hands as Tanglefoot and Amandine ask their questions.

She almost whistles out loud at the explanation of the mechanical noise-maker before she catches herself. "Would we be able to get one of those Insects? It would make our jobs much safer."

I think our mission(s) are pretty clear. Though I'm sure some kind of complications will come up. I think Chana is ready to proceed.

"Not for the moment I am afraid, supplies are limited and I do not believe they would be appropriate for the Gala. Though they are useful they are not discrete and drawing attention to one's self is, for the most part, the opposite of what we are aiming to achieve."

Amandine's touch snaps Olivia out of it, though it does leave her a bit confused as to what it must mean. She gives the pretty half elf a quick questioning glance, but sits back and takes another sip of wine. If Amandine's hand remains around hers, however, she'll pull back.

For now she'll let the others take care of the discussion. She knows her role and what will be needed. The only thing that she's concerned about the job is running around in this corset.

"If you say so, Ms. Lotheed." Chawa swings to her feet, veil swishing. While initially she had been a study in proper decorum, the long conversations had worn down her patience. She swings the parasol so the tip rests just above her shoulder. "Unless you have something else for us, I'm ready to d-" -ahem- "to proceed."

She gives a curtsy and steps back, ready to leave.

Amandine's hand doesn't linger on Olivia's, nor does she look her way. There, now Lady Olivia should feel her concerns have been heard. She's busy listening to Lady Lotheed explain her insect construction.

When the meeting begins to break up, Amandine remains behind so she can have a private word with Lady Lotheed. Two more things remain.

"Lady Lotheed, there is one more condition I need to be assured of before I can proceed further." Amandine passes a small scrap of paper to the Lady. "This is my brother's name and address. If anything occurs which makes it necessary, will you guarantee he will receive all of my possessions, and any outstanding payments due to me?"

"Also," she adds, bringing up an anxiety that's been gnawing at her, "if there is still time for it, should I buy a wig to wear to the Gala?"

"Mr. Lendar, I would appreciate any help you could offer to me when it comes to swaying Senators to our cause," Khalil said bowing his head to the slightly older man. He was thankful that Damrak had offered his assistance. It would make it less strange if they were working together after this. Besides from past conversation and interaction with the man it seemed as though their goals in regards to the Senate were reasonably similar. Ultimately though he just liked that he had someone he felt a bit more comfortable trusting in the group. Something just seemed off about Ms. Durante and Amandine had agreed to the two most obviously questionable tasks with almost worrying speed. Truthfully he knew very little of Damrak, nothing really of his past, but he'd at least seen how driven the man was and how noble in his own way he could be. Tanglefoot seemed to be a fool, by trade if not nature. Olivia at least seemed fairly honorable, which he suppose only made sense as she was a paladin.

He listened with minor curiosity about the clockwork bug that was keeping their conversation quiet. It didn't make much sense to him but then he supposed it just wasn't his area of expertise. Talk of trade deals and he would be chatting it up in a second. It sounded useful certainly but wasn't it just a noisy metal bug? Khalil finished his tea and rose when several of the others seemed eager to set out. Before heading to the Gala he would want to take a quick trip back to his inn room and pick up his spear. It had his family's standard flag draped from it and he was bringing it with him to the Gala. He'd have to leave it with the guards but he wanted to make an impression as he went in at least. Besides it would be good to have nearby just in case anything did happen to go wrong.

"Is there anything else that you feel is relevant for us to know before we depart Madame Lotheed?" Khalil said as he rose from his chair and fingered a strand of hair back behind his ear.

"While not necessary a wig might be appropriate, and you do have the time to purchase one, if nothing else it is useful to be able to alter ones silhouette. Indeed you all have time to make purchases, and I shall not be put out if you decide to sell the items I just gave you, use your best judgement, if a disguise kit is more helpful that one elixir or another in your judgement then exchange for it." Lady Martella says candidly.

"As for your loved ones, please be assured that I wish our cooperation to be long term, and that I feel the way to foster loyal agents is to treat them well, and let them see that I treat their colleagues well. I shall ensure your possessions, and moneys owed make their way to those you care for. And should the worst comes to the worst I will take them into my service in an appropriate roll, or place them in some form of schooling that would secure their future."

Pausing for a moment she runs her fingers down a stray lock of hair, “Overall, tonight promises to be a historic evening, but an evening of work nonetheless. And in the sort of work you’re embarking upon, the line that divides success and failure is drawn by the people you know. You have your own tasks to accomplish, but I’m counting on you to support one another to ensure success and discretion. If you need assistance, kindly ask for it. If your assistance is required, give it. And if I’m to be blunt, I would like just once in my adult life to simply enjoy a gala I attend, rather than scamper about with clandestine busywork. If you all complete your work without need of me to clean anything up, I will happily double my promised fee."

“I trust your activities won’t occupy your entire evening, so by all means, enjoy the party and make friends. This is an excellent opportunity for you to begin your own political ambitions, but do be discreet.”

Tanglefoot seems deep in thought, and then he begins speaking once more.

"Well, I suppose I'd best accompany Lady Amandine to the wine cellar. I'll buy a bottle of cheap wine-- some real manticore piss, I'll make sure-- and when we get to the cellar I'll open and drink the good vintage. It sounds like that may be the only way to save it. Then we can refill the bottle with the wine I've procured, and I can use my skills at prestidigitation to reseal the bottle. It'll only last an hour, but that should be ample time, I'd wager."

He smiles, "Don't forget to come and get me when you want to head to the cellar."

Amandine nonchalantly replies to Tangle-foot.

"No, I won't be doing that. My fee doubles if everything runs smoothly. Your alterations to the plan make it more complex, and introduce time limits and greater possibilities for error."

The only reason for your alteration is your own indulgence. I won't assist you for it. Instead take the extra fee you collect and buy yourself a bottle of your own to suit your tastes on your own time."

A quick flash of surprise washes across Olivia's face after Amandine responds to Tanglegoot. 'Dayyyymn'

Olivia will take two of the smoke pellets and the dose of soul stimulant. Eager to get out now that people are ready to leave, Olivia says "Outstanding. Time to get to work, everyone. Don't forget The Lady's gifts, I'm sure they'll help us in our missions." She rises and says to Lady Martella "Thank you again Lady Martella for this opportunity. We'll do our best to make sure everything goes smoothly."

When appropriate to do so, Olivia exits the premises. The first thing she does is wait for each member to exit, where she'll meet those she hadn't originally.

Tanglefoot stares at Amandine for a moment, expecting her to laugh and say she was kidding, but seeing that she is serious, he bursts out laughing himself.

"As you wish," he says to her, "We all have our indulgences; mine is good food and drink, yours... is wigs? Well, I would wish you luck in poisoning wine, but then again, I want you to fail, so I suppose I won't way anything at all about it."

He turns to the paladin.

"And fear not Lady Olivia, I'd not overindulge on a night when I must work. I wish that half a bottle of wine could make me tipsy, as it were in the days of my youth, but it is not so."

"Wigs?"Amandine replies, puzzled by the comment. "No, books. And success."

Amandine smirks slightly "It does take you quite a bit of talking to say nothing about something doesn't it?"

"I hope you understand Mr. Tangle-foot that I mean no animosity or disapproval. It is simply that you are not my employer and so can't change her instructions to suit yourself. I am not obliged to service your religious sensibilities, especially at considerable possible cost to myself. Not to mention everyone else whom we are working with. That's all there is to it, nothing personal."

When Lady Olivia greets her at the outside door, Amandine returns her smile.

"It's been my pleasure to meet you as well Lady Olivia. I remember the artifacts you requested, and I will be sure to take them. But, what happens to them afterwards is out of my hands."

"One thing, since you will be moving about on the Senate floor quite a lot his evening. If you see any of our comrades having difficulty with their assignments, interacting with the Senators, find me and let me know. I am very good at assisting people when they need help with persuading or convincing others."

Chana will definitely want to chat a bit with her group of new associates, to try to get a feel for them when they're not acting for Martella's sake. Before that though, I want to make sure we don't have anything else with Martella. Just so we don't end up role-playing two scenes in parallel.

"Agreed." Having heard enough to his satisfaction, Damrak has already put on one of the senate aide badges - in his mind, this is enough by itself to constitute acceptance of Lady Martella's contract, but the verbal assent is for avoidance of all doubt.

As Tanglefoot suggests a pointless (and risky) change to the plan, he shakes his head, in agreement with Amandine. "Alcohol is a snare for the spirit, and any fooled thereby are not wise." He quotes from Abadian scripture, looking round meaningfully at the group, his bass voice rumbling into speech. "I work sober. I trust you all do likewise."

As the group breaks up, he lingers behind, happy to talk with anyone who will speak with him. He bows fluidly at Olivia's greeting. "The pleasure is mine, Lady Vernisant." He hesitates briefly, wondering how much to tell her. "Your guidance on noble etiquette would be welcome: I am not noble-born. But we cannot choose our family." He has heard rumours, of course, of the Vernisant family. But he will leave it to her to decide whether to broach this topic now.

Khalil determined that he would need to pay attention to Amandine Santon. It seemed as though she was familiar enough with this quasi-legal kind of work that she felt comfortable rejecting help on the matter. Not that Khalil could necessarily blame her. As someone who appreciated order and control he didn’t exactly love the idea of someone stepping on his toes if he had a plan in mind. More than anything it was that she apparently already had something of a plan in mind for how to go about an activity that, despite Lady Lotheed’s insistence, simply didn’t feel right to Khalil’s mind. For Khalil’s part he was more than happy to take assistance where offered when it came to courting the Senators. He was good with people, but he wasn’t well versed in the current political climate of the nobility and he feared his lack of information would be to his detriment.

As they exited the café Khalil nodded to Lady Olivia Vernisant. As she greeted him he smiled and said, “Your pronunciation is quite good, I don’t suppose you speak Kelish do you? Not too many nobles who do in Taldor these days, at least none that would openly admit to it. As for my family, you are spot on, the Duvan family is nowhere near as influential as the Vernisants of course but we have a small estate to the north of here. I must say you aren’t quite what I pictured when I heard of the Vernisant’s daughter who traveled to the Worldwound. Granted with the way some people spread rumors its merely a relief you don’t have horns and fangs. Perhaps if time allows you can tell me some of your travels. Back when my mother was employed by the Balanced Scales she traveled a great deal and as a child I always enjoyed hearing of her exploits.”

As they moved down the street Chana’s attitude seemed to shift slightly. This wasn’t overly surprising as apparently everyone here was perfectly capable of putting up something of a false face when necessary but when she gestured towards an alleyway Khalil did hesitate for a moment. A group of finely dressed men and women walking through alleys seemed a wonderful way to get pick-pocketed. But a quick glance at the weapons several of their party carried assuaged his worries a great deal. He had a mostly ornamental scepter that he had been given by a superior at the church, in a pinch it could serve as a light mace and he decided that in addition to the spear he would bring that along with him. It would be better to have it and not need it than the reverse.

Stepping into the alleyway Khalil unpinned and pocketed his badge before nodding to Chana, “I believe that a good bit of honest communication might be exactly what we need if we are going to be working together for the foreseeable future.”

Amandine steps into the alley as well.

"But can we keep this short?" she asks, adding to Khalil's statement. "I have errands yet before the Gala."

Olivia follows the rest into the alleyway. "This isn't the shadiest part of Oppara, by far, but it'd be best if we didn't linger here."

Once everyone has stowed their badges and entered the alley, Chana continues. "So now that Ms. Lotheed isn't breathing down our necks..." She makes extra sure her badge is covered by other things in her pouch. "How about we all explain what we're in this for? Because this is some shady business, and I know I didn't dig my hands into it just for fun." She taps her parasol's tip on the ground "We're going to be a team, right? I want to know who I'm working with. What you people care about. Whether you're the sorts who'll stab the rest of us in the back because of some stupid 'ambition' or something."

"And no, don't give me those flay-bent bits about wanting to make a coin or two." She points her parasol at Damrak "Especially not you, Mr. Named After a Street Legend. "

All pretense at elegance is gone from her body language. She raises the parasol up and rests it (closed) on her shoulder like its a cudgel she's readying. "For my part, I'm here to make sure my Aunt Durante has a copper's throw of a chance to inherit. No Primogeniture and she's out in the street. I'd take knocking some sense into the rotters up top as a side benefit, if I can get it. They're running this city into the ground, and I have plenty of friends and family who'll suffer for it."

"Martella seems like a way in, a way to make sure things go the way I want. Even if I don't trust her further than I can throw her."

Under her veil, she eyes the others in the group to note who is holding anything back.

Sense Motive vs. Olivia: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (19) + 12 = 31
Sense Motive vs. Damrak: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (3) + 12 = 15
Sense Motive vs. Tanglefoot: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (16) + 12 = 28
Sense Motive vs. Amandine: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (16) + 12 = 28
Sense Motive vs. Khalil: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (10) + 12 = 22

"I have served with honorable and compassionate commoners and peasants, both of which I would lay down my life for."

Damrak acknowledges the sentiment with a nod. "Praiseworthy, although hopefully unnecessary."

Following the hooded and cloaked Ms Durante into the alley, he is taken aback by her directness. Most of his business dealings are with people who take forever to get to the point. It's vaguely refreshing. However...

"Counterpoint," his voice rumbles: "Demands for honesty work best when reciprocated." He gestures at the veil which conceals his interlocutor. "Perhaps you could show yourself?"

Also: "street legend?" He makes a mental note to pursue that at a more propitious time.

Being Lawful, he doesn't (generally) lie so Sense Motive not required

"You don't want to see it." Chana replies to Damrak matter-of-factly, well aware of the effect her unhidden face has on people not used to it. "But if you insist, I'll show you. After you explain yourself though. I'd rather hear from you before you faint from seeing my incredible beauty." She snorts at her own joke.

"Fair." Damrak acknowledges the counter-offer with a wave of his hand.

"Very well. My reasons." His low, rumbling voice changes timbre slightly, losing some of its edge and taking on a more persuasive softness. "Taldor stagnates: weary, stale, flat - unprofitable. Change imperative. Change by lawful means preferable to revolution and chaos. See: Galt." He shrugs. "Princess Eutropia seems to understand that. Hence primogeniture a hindrance."

"Now, to your other questions. Who you're working with? A reliable business partner. My word is good. What I care about? My god, myself, my friends, my colleagues. In that order. And if I stab you, it will be in the front; and it won't be due to quote some stupid ambition unquote."

He gives her a stern gaze. "Satisfied?"

Suspicion gets to Olivia now that they're all in an alley, removed from contact, and Chiara has changed character. She keeps a ready stance, just in case. "I'm scanning for traces of evil or corruption first. Inheritor grant me sight." Her eyes glow white as she inspects her surroundings. When it is clear that there is nothing, she dispels it. "No one here radiates any aura of evil... that doesn't mean there Isn't evil, but it's either weak or really good at hiding..."

She relaxes slightly. She stands forward and lets go of her sword hilt. She still glares around with an eye of suspicion though. "I want... women to be able to make a difference in this world... without having to fight through chauvinistic men to do it. The prince couldn't care less about us, but with the princess on the throne, perhaps there's some real hope. I second Mr. Lendar in saying that I don't want a civil war or a rebellion. And I'd much prefer if these changes happened peacefully and with as little subterfuge as possible... though I have my doubts that that's going to happen..."

Bluff: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 2 = 19
Though she is telling the truth, Olivia's truer goals are more personal in nature. I think it's fairly obvious for example that she's upset about the state of her family.

"I have a brother to support and this is my best opportunity to do it. That's the whole of it. The iron is hot and I'm going to strike very hard while it is."

"If this get together is about trust... Well, I have a professional reputation to build, and I understand the value of reliability to it. The "cause", narrow as it is, doesn't burden my conscience. I would be happy to hear that rentier families will have to give every member regardless of gender a chance to own the ladle that doles from the family pot. Sincerely."

If the veiled woman wants openness, no reason to spare her the vinegar.

"This may be surprising, but I don't get invited very often to galas." says Tanglefoot, as he begins to strip down out of his courtier's outfit, openly in the alley-way, in front of everyone. "I'm just here for the free food, free drink, and free excitement. I will say that I certainly support the abolition of primogeniture, for what it is worth. I wouldn't be a good spokesman for it." As he gets down to his long-johns, and produces a suit of motley from a sack, he continues, "But as you can see, I have nothing to hide, at least nothing you’d want to look at. And after all, it would be rude to refuse an invitation from an aristocrat like Lady Lotheed. Propriety in social circles and pleasing the nobles is always my utmost concern, as a fool." He pulls on his rough-spun trousers and tunic, a colorful but faded array of blues, reds, greens, and yellows.

Bluff: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (9) + 9 = 18

"Now I'm attired appropriately for what you all must think of me."

There is probably more to Tanglefoot than he is letting on, but he spends so much of his speech in jest that it's hard to tell what's what.
Perhaps the only sincere thing that he said was the bit about supporting the end to primogeniture.

He gives her a stern gaze. "Satisfied?"

"No" Chana squares her shoulders "You talk like you're Martella's little clockwork bug, all clicking and buzzing. If the only thing you want is to make Taldor more profitable for your god and for yourself, you're just as bad as the people already there."

"If we're going to work together, you're going to have to do better. All you've said so far is that you'll serve your god and yourself before anyone else, and that when its convenient you'll attack us." She puts a hand on her hip. "Attack us from the front." She switches briefly to the voice she was using with Martella "How positively kind of you."

"I want... women to be able to make a difference in this world... without having to fight through chauvinistic men to do it." (...) "And I'd much prefer if these changes happened peacefully and with as little subterfuge as possible... though I have my doubts that that's going to happen..."

"We're not going to get anything done by asking nicely. If that was all it took, this city would be nothing like it is." Chana steps up to Olivia and peers at her face through the veil. "As for you... well, I'm with you on helping women have a better chance. The things that have been set up against us are downright rotten." She lays a hand on Olivia's shoulder. "But you're holding back on us. I'd like to know if that family of yours, that one you don't like, if they're going to come after you once you start making a splash. Because if they move against you, they move against all of us. And I'd rather not get surprised when another Vernisant tries to poison my cup later."

I'm using Chana's sense motive result + Olivia's earlier comment that she's considered reforming her house to inform Chana's conclusions. You certainly don't have to lay yourself bare here, but consider the benefit and dangers of not letting us know.

She grins, though it's hidden by her veil "Hey, and you said you wanted to reform your house, but didn't. Maybe together we'd have a better chance of it."

"I have a brother to support and this is my best opportunity to do it. That's the whole of it." (...) "I would be happy to hear that rentier families will have to give every member regardless of gender a chance to own the ladle that doles from the family pot. Sincerely."

"If all you want is to make yourself rich, you're even less trustworthy than Mr. "I'll Stab You in the Front" over there. For all we know, the first time some Vernisant asks you to poison us for a heap of gold, you'll dump our bodies into the sewers yourself." And Chana has seen those bodies down there herself!

Much like Olivia, she watches Amandine's face with care. "But I can understand fighting for your brother. If that's what really motivates you, we'll be good until he gets kidnapped and you're turned against us." She gives out a snort. "At least we'll know to expect it."

"Now I'm attired appropriately for what you all must think of me."

"As for you... I once ran in a crew that had someone like you in it. All jokes, always wanted to do his own thing. Guy thought it'd be funny to have a little fun on the side when we went to save some friends of ours who had been captured. Fun with the mistress of a clan head, that is." She stabs her parasol at the flagstones beneath her feet. "He got four kids killed when the head came after us. The fool said it wasn't his fault, he couldn't help it. That he couldn't 'let a good gal go to waste'." Her voice rings with scorn.

"Now I think you've got a better head on your shoulders than that. Right? Because if we can't trust you, we'll have to do without you."

"My father won't do a damn thing until his name gets muddy. Once that happens, well... I suspect he'll do whatever it takes to make himself look good. If that includes killing me... he probably would. He radiates more evil than any demon I've ever seen, and has the personality and values to match."

She clenches her fist as it trembles.

"Words are only words, but I can tell you that as long as you're my ally, I'm honour-bound to protect your life and your honour. I'd lose all of my powers and the respect of the person I look up to most if I didn't. If you want me to taste-test your glass for poison, so be it."

Damrak easily swallows the insult, he's had worse and it's just part of negotiation. (Of course, in an earlier life he'd have knifed Chana for her insolence)

"You complain about my guarantee not to stab you in the back, but it's more than you have offered. And why is Ms Santon's brother any more of a liability than your own Aunt, whom you have admitted to care about? I would imagine most of us have family, myself excepted." He keeps his tone reasonable. "And if that's all you took from my words, you weren't listening. I said nothing about 'convenience' - that was your word. I work in business, my word matters. I don't betray those I do business with. However 'convenient' it might be."

He sighs. "I'm sorry you've had bad experiences with former associates. So have I." He parts the hair on his beard, where it grows across his neck - revealing a jagged scar that runs across his throat. He smooths his beard down. "Not many get to see that."

He gives her a look. "So far you've demanded more than you have given. That's not a fair trade."

Amandine's face begins to redden.

"Apparently you don't understand what a professional reputation is or how it works. You're using the term "we" as if you spoke for us collectively, but all I hear is "you" dumping your baggage on us. I don't recall Lady Lotheed mentioning your supervisory role, so if you are dissatisfied with my answer take it up with her."

"And we still haven't seen what's under that veil."

"This is a waste of time. I have errands to run yet so I will be on my way now."

Amandine swings about and walks away.

Chana brightens at Olivia's admission, voice openly warm as she says "I'll cover your back too Olivia! I don't have much honor or powers to lose, but I never leave good people hanging, and you're a good person as far as I see. Your father will have to go through me first!" She steps over to stand next to Olivia.

Leaning down to whisper into Olivia's ear she says "Oh, and if you want my help with you know who, I've been told I'm an excellent wingwoman."

--

When Damrak responds, she pauses to take her measure of him again. She continues with "Then we have your 'word' we'll work together and watch each others' backs? Because Olivia and I will for sure." When Damrak shows his scar, she touches her own neck where the scar seems to run for him. "That's an awfully nasty one. I mean, I've seen worse, but its nasty. Assassination, or did you rough it somewhere before this?"

When he asks to get more from Chana, she says "All I'm looking for is to know who the people we're working with are, what they want. You know that for me, since I already told you. But if you're talking about this" she gestures at the veil "I'll show you since you're so curious."

Chana shakes her head in confusion as Amandine leaves. "I guess I didn't really understand her professional reputation thing." She sighs "But she'll turn around, I think. She didn't strike me as someone who would throw the rest of us to the rats."

Amandine hurries to meet with an acquaintance of hers who has a cousin who works at the Senate building. It is the most time-sensitive of her errands.

Afterward, she buys a wig. Nothing so ornate as to clash with her dress style, but one that will give her the long hair to pass fashion muster. She decides to go honey blonde.

Lady Martella after speaking her last words, evidently in dismissal produces a small grey leather pouch which once opened reveals an exquisite set of silver tools all tiny, but evidently of fine craftsmanship. Biting her lower lip she plucks up the mechanical cricket and begins making almost impossibly delicate adjustments, sighing after half a minute and removing a small black spring which she begins to examine under a magnifying glass.

The Gala itself is scheduled to begin in around two hours time, so the group of newly selected agents have some time to make purchases and adjust their equipment before they head to The Senate.

The current senate building is a grandiose, T-shaped edifice constructed from white marble. Ostentatious columns carved with glorious scenes of the nation’s history surround the building on all sides, while a pronounced flight of precisely 100 stairs ascends to the main entrance.

Tanglefoot is uncertain of what to say to Chana's fearmongering and apparent total distrust and disrespect toward her fellow party members.

Watch out for that one, those who don't trust can't be trusted. Olivia is certainly trustworthy, and Tamrak seems a decent fellow, if a teetotaler, despite his poor choice in deities. He wasn't sure about the half-Keleshite. He didn't share the racism embodied by most Taldans against Qadirans, or those who looked like they might be connected to Qadira, so he'd give the man a fair chance. He had little use for those who could not take a joke, so Amandine wasn't someone he thought he'd get along with. But worst of all was this busybody Chana.

He simply waits quietly, his apparently stupid smile never leaving his face, while she finishes her strange tirade. For the first time since he met her, he was identifying with Amandine.

Olivia replies "O-Okay. That's great. Thank you Ms. Durante. I have some things to go take care of before the gala, so if you'd excuse me..."

Olivia spends the rest of her time relaxing and getting ready for the event. She'll go to one of the high-class bath houses and wash herself in a hot bath. She also gets a quick massage and a bit of perfume. The whole time, she ponders about what just happened.

Olivia also buys a good meal from a nice tavern nearby. She reckons that she won't have a lot of time to eat at the gala, and she didn't get anything more than wine at the meeting with Lady Lotheed. She continues to wonder about all of her new coworkers and her employer. That meeting in the alley with Ms. Durante.

Finally, Olivia spends a few minutes praying to Iomedae. She holds out her sword and hangs her holy symbol from the end, to represent the weight of her oaths. Then she kneels and focuses on the dangling symbol. "Lady Inheritor, please grant me guidance in my next hours. I walk a precarious path, and my faith wavers around my allies and employer. I am your sword forged against evil, but let me see the good in each of them, so I may stand by their side with honour and pride. Thank you for trusting me with these powers, and I swear to never let you down."

Then Olivia stands up, breathes a heavy sigh, and sets out for the gala.

Using public bath, highest cost, 1gp
Good meal, 5sp

Amandine has the wig fitted on her at the shop immediately after buying it. She then goes directly to the Senate, arriving before any of the others. She doesn't want to be late. She waits near, but not at, the doors. She doesn't want to seem like a stray.

She's beginning to feel a little on edge, something akin to stage fright. To keep herself occupied she concentrates on the strange weight of the wig on her head. Until a couple of years ago she had always had long hair. But then she sold it. Very soon she came to prefer her hair short. Certainly it was less trouble, and it made her ears more prominent.

At the club she's the only half-elf working, and there are no elves at all. Amandine is the one called on to be either if needed. Accentuating her ears keeps attention away from her eyes, which are an immediate giveaway. Not that anyone really cares all that much she figures. Her income from the club had bumped up some after the haircut, and she couldn't argue with that.

And besides, from what she has heard short hair is very much the current thing in Absalom.

A steady stream of well, and often shockingly, dressed figures enter the senate displaying their badges to the alert team of crisply uniformed guardsmen who check each in turn. One of the guards appears to be crossing the badges off on a list.

A few young men in servants livery are on hand to assist the older, or more portly, guests with the century of stairs, while similarly dressed young women offer a variety of iced drinks.

Many of the guests arrive in parties, presumably sharing the same patron. And the majority arrive in luxurious coaches, seemingly trying to outdo each other so bedecked in filigree and decadently elaborate carving.

Amandine sees a snooty looking rather plain woman, descend from one such carriage who she instantly recognizes as Countess Abrielle Pace. The Countess is greeted by an elderly fellow in conservative dress who shares a laugh with her before heading on up the stairs which he begins to ascend at a snails pace.

Able to read lips Amandine makes out the Countess saying to an older female companion in markedly less expensive finery, "Disgusting old leach, do you know he proposed to Elisha Egremont? Twenty years his junior, imagine having that walrus sweating on top of you! Still he must have amassed a considerable fortune, so he would not be a bad catch for you, perk up those t++* and I might not have to keep you any more!"

The unknown woman's cheeks turn pink and anger flares in her eyes, but she nods her head deferentially and moves to follow in Countess Pace's wake as the other sets off up the stairs.

Amandine Knowledge Nobility: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27

Tanglefoot will go ahead and make his way over to the Senate, and see if he can get an idea of what other entertainers will be performing for the gathered elites.

Chana watches with increasing confusion as each member of the group shuns her call to explain themselves.

'This is like no crew I've been a part of. We were always close, really close, and we had to be. If you weren't close, weren't looking out for each other, you'd be as good as dead. And if there was someone rotten in your family, it'd be just as bad. But these people... these nobles... they've closed themselves off. They're trying to do everything alone. It's scary, isn't it Snips? Being alone. Scary and dangerous.'

To anyone left, she puts her veil back in place and wobbles out an awkward curtsy. "Apologies, I overstepped." Her tone with Martella is back in place. "Maybe we can all talk again after this mission of Ms. Lotheeds?"

And she splits off as well, heading back home to ask her aunt why nobles are so strange.

-----------------

She cleans up (mostly at Sophia's prompting), switches to the new outfit obtained on Martella's dime, and pins the senatorial aide badge to her lapel. She brings her scimitar with her, bound in accordance with the Senate rules, and wears her armor underneath the dress (making it unpleasantly hot, but she feels safer entering this den of vipers with some armor on). A few last minute checks from her family and she's on her way.

Before long, she's scurrying up the 100 steps to enter the Senate proper. Once up at the top, she steps to the side and waits, doing her best to make it seem that she's waiting for someone. While there, she watches the people arriving and tries to see if she can overhear anything interesting.

Perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (6) + 10 = 16 (-2 on this result if the target is not human)

Tangle-foot sees little in the way of entertainers as he enters, unless one can count some dirty old men entertaining themselves with the drinks girls, whose pained expression indicate their opinions of this treatment. It is not until he makes his way into the building that he catches a glimpse of a small herd of children being lead upstairs by a half dozen capering halflings, several of whom wear red and black motley, and one even has a painted face, one side black one side white.

They are headed to A4 which is not on the map and is a gallery that looks down upon the main hall.

Chana waits at the top of the stairs, a guard having checked her badge, and sees a tall handsome man ascending with a beautiful Lady - a dozen lesser nobles following about a dozen yards behind the pair. Though both would be conventionally past their prime, the years seem to have lent only gravitas and poise to enhance their good looks. They talk as they ascend, and from their body language the man is faintly deferential to the Lady. She recognizes the man as Baron Nicolaus Okerra, and the Lady as the renowned bard and socialite Lady Glorianna Morilla.

"I hear you will be gracing us with a performance Lady Gloriana? It shall be a great privilege to hear you play once more. I almost shed a tear last time..."

"Almost Nico? I must have been having an off night. Those lying poets told me I could induce tears in a rock, and yet you say you shed none?"

Chana Knowledge Nobility: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (14) + 4 = 18

To be clear these checks are specifically to see if you recognize nobles by sight, not standard info seeking ones.

Curious about the children and halflings, Tanglefoot tumbles across the room with a massive grin on his face, jowls shaking as he moves, doing his best to seem simple, and attempts to join the procession upstairs.

Acrobatics (not trying to do anything particularly fancy, just sort of almost slapstick stumbling across the room): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (16) + 8 = 24
Bluff (to appear like he is just a simple-minded dullard): 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (2) + 9 = 11

He would have his badge pinned to his cap.

Khalil leaned back against a wall so he could keep his eyes on everyone as they spoke. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust them, it was simply that he was in the habit of always paying attention to the details. It was the little things that so often made the difference, whether it was in a trade, negotiation or even simple conversation. He listened with increasing worry as the group argued back and forth. For the moment he allowed himself to be removed from it. Amandine clearly had a line that she was unwilling to cross. For a woman with the purported skills to sabotage and steal in the middle of a gala that seemed rather sensible. You likely didn’t live a life like that without growing cautious. He can agree with much of what Damrak said, nodding along almost unconsciously. Madame Durante surprised him by not accepting what people were willing to explain and instead kept pushing for more. Khalil was very forthright, he had no reason to hide things truly, but he understood that not everyone was. It seemed as though Chana wasn’t willing to accept that as readily for some reason.

“Now while I would agree that an honest start builds a lasting base for any working relationship I think it is asking a bit much to expect everyone here to divulge their innermost secrets all upon our first meeting,” Khalil said leaning forward and pushing away from the wall.

“We were all recruited because we have certain skills and traits that Lady Lotheed believes she can capitalize on the cultivate. You heard her, she wishes to make a lasting working relationship with us as her agents. We will have time to better know one another. Until then we will have to take things at least partially on faith I feel. That said as everyone has divulged at least some of their reason for accepting Lady Lotheed’s invitation I will happily explain my own reasons. My mother is Keleshite and perhaps the most brilliant and brave person I have ever met. Due in part to primogeniture and in part to simple racism after my father’s death she would have been left with nothing of the estate that she has spent years building. I admire the law, I love it for its complexity and the guidance if offers our lives. But as Mister Lendar has said, stagnation benefits no one and nothing. The law is not some cold dead thing, it is alive and must grow just as any other living thing does. I would love to see this country grow again, perhaps in ways that it has not in centuries. I personally long to see its relationship with Qadira grow warmer and trade to prosper between the two,” Khalil explains with passion in his voice. He has never had trouble talking to people and he rarely attempts to hide how he feels. In his mind, an impassioned speech about something you truly care about is far more likely to sway someone than a cold and calculated hint or two.

As Chana pushed for more than the group was perhaps ready to divulge at this point though Amandine took her leave. Khalil raised a hand to attempt to slow her but she had already slipped out of the alley before he could. That did not bode especially well for their efforts at team building unfortunately and Khalil regretted not speaking up until things had already started to escalate. Things were growing chaotic, and he hated chaos.

When he did finally leave the alley, he made his way to the inn he was staying at and finished cleaning himself up. He did decide to bring the ornamental scepter to the gala with him. It was a lovely golden piece but it did have some weight to it. If they were going to be skulking around in alleyways again he would feel a little better armed. He also grabbed his longspear with his family’s flag attached to it. If he was going to a gala where he’d meet people of the senate it was a good chance to draw attention to his own bid for a senate position. The longspear would have to be left outside the gala but that was fine as long as he had the psudo-mace with him he supposed. He dressed in his outfit for the gala and oiled his hair into tight curls—accentuating his half Keleshite appearance even further. He was not going to the gala and hiding who he was, he was going to make an impression. When he was done preparing he made sure that his pin was reaffixed to his suit and made his way towards the senate building.

As he approached and handed over his longspear to be held by the guards he kept an eye on everyone around him. His direct knowledge of the names and personal details of the Taldan nobility was sadly lacking as a small time provincial noble. So he would have to learn whatever he could from passing conversation whenever possible. He wondered if the man he was meant to influence was already in attendance and if anyone had spotted him. Khalil would have to look around and keep an ear open. When his mace was peacebound and he was free to enter he passed inside and began looking for his teammates. If spotted he didn’t necessarily intend to approach them immediately but he wanted to have some idea of where to find them should the need arise.

Perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (19) + 8 = 27

"Unusual." Damrak's reply to Chana's revelation of her true appearance is typically understated. "Doubtless there's a story there, as there is with mine. Perhaps we can exchange at a more suitable time."

So saying, he bows and takes his leave.

Returning home, he is pleased to find a scroll waiting for him (part-payment on a loan he arranged some months previously). He tucks it into a pocket, ensures that his falcata is properly peace-bound, and sets off for the Senate at a leisurely pace.

Once there, he will accept a glass of whatever drink is being offered (for appearance only) and keep his mouth closed until he has a sense of things.

Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (3) + 7 = 10
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (15) + 9 = 24