"Hmm," says Tanglefoot to Wyssilka, "Split the gold, I'd say, and then I'd like the wand. You can have the bottle of brandy if you like. Sound fair?"
"I've got to mingle," he continues, But I must say that it was a great pleasure to make your acquaintance, most fantabulous one. Could you do me a favor and let me know if you see anything strange going on?"
"Agreed." Realising that it is easier to work the rooms as a team, Damrak follows Chana to the archives. He mingles with a different group from Chana, again listening carefully and offering an opinion where required that is likely to chime with what the person might be interested in hearing.
Photinè politely cuts through the crowd and greets Lady Morilla, praising Eutropia’s speech and remarking on the friendliness between the two.
”It is long past time our great nation sees it’s good fortune that women like you—Us, dare-I-say?—call it home.” She continues, smiling warmly. ”Perhaps it’s my Galtian blood speaking, but I would welcome such a momentous change tonight.”
Departing the Senate Floor, you find that the Imperial Archives are only slightly more sedate than the hotbed of debate you just left. Rather than primogeniture, though, you find that the rising nobles and aspiring courtiers are engaged in thinly veiled contests to prove whose knowledge of Taldan history is superior.
The handful of guides present struggle to get their more erudite words in edgewise, often needing to politely correct the overzealous, pompous aristocrats' assertions of fact and history.
You keep to the periphery of one such group of nobles as they are led along by a guide who explains that the current senate structure was built atop the ruins of a succession of older senate constructions. As the noble guests again devolve into a duel of words - vying to prove who knows more about the architects, donors, and other events tied to the senate - the guide tries to keep their attention by seguing into a more morbid spot of history.
"There were some rather nasty superstitions that surrounded the construction of those older buildings, especially after the terrible earthquakes of the 2900s that leveled whole cities and killed thousands." the guide explains, adding dramatic flair to his voice. "Laborers would actually be intentionally sealed within the walls - essentially buried alive in hidden alcoves. They called this grim reward 'immurement,' and it was meant to ensure the strength of the construction by binding the workers' spirits to the stones themselves."
These dark details manage to momentarily snare the rapt attention of the group, and it actually keeps the aristocrats away from resuming their subtle verbal duels - at least for a little while.
You divvy up the spoils of your combined showmanship with Wyssilka, who offers a bow so low that the crown of her head taps upon the tiles of the gallery floor.
"I do believe you and I are the strangest things to be found tonight," she says with a beaming white smile. "But you can come and find me later to see what I have seen. I should be easy to find. Simply follow the sounds of more genuine laughter and mirth!"
She punctuates her subtle barb towards the nobles by producing a paintbrush and small pot of red paint from seemingly nowhere. She prances about as her troupe collect their share of the donations then likewise draw paint supplies.
The many children begin to line up, with no small amount of pushing and shoving, as Wyssilka and company begin offering face painting as the next round of entertainment.
Even for a fellow fool, this fantabulous halfling is difficult to discern, and you can't quite settle on the best way to influence her.
As you approach Lady Gloriana, some random noble attempts to win the favor of her and the princess with a joke - one that utterly falls flat. Nevertheless, Lady Gloriana offers a peal of forced raucous laughter that she cuts short as you address her. She eagerly takes a single step aside to speak with you, although you suspect she simply desires any momentary reprieve from acting as Princess Eutropia’s “social bouncer.”
You notice that her eyes fall upon the senate aide badge you wear, which Martella Lotheed had given you a few days prior to the gala, and her smile almost immediately becomes warmer, more welcoming.
”Proud though you may be, I wouldn’t suggest speaking of your Galtan blood so freely,” she says with a sardonic smile. ”Although Taldor offered safe haven to so many of the nobles fleeing the Red Revolution, much of our native nobility sees them as only very entitled refugees. I daresay that much of our company tonight,” she says waving crooked fingers sharply towards the heedless crowd around you, ”Puts the former Galtan aristocracy on equal footing with lepers and beggars.”
A momentary frown plays upon her face before she replaces it with a more beneficent smile.
”I meant no offense,” she says plaintively. ”And I mean that sincerely. I guarantee that many people here tonight will speak the words ‘I meant no offense’ simply to hide the offense that they genuinely meant, but that is not me. I just want you to know that if you hope to have the best evening possible, be Taldan tonight and Galtan tomorrow.”
She draws quiet for a moment, seeming to appraise you further.
”I believe I saw you step away from the crowd as the princess spoke,” she says, slightly tilting her head in curiosity, ”in order to speak with a servant instead. That was a rather daring choice.”
She finishes speaking with a coy smile.
Tanglefoot smiles as his new friend goes off, and makes his way down the stairs, back to the Arcade of Triumphs to keep tabs on the High Strategos.
He thinks to himself how he might ingratiate himself with Pythareus. He hopes he will still be tolerated after the jests he conducted earlier. He tries to remain as unnoticeable as a fool can, simply standing quietly to one side.
While the stories of the morbid history of the Senate building are gripping in a way that all good Narrows tales are (there's a terrible twist and plenty of bloodshed), Chana quickly finds herself disappointed in the rest of the conversation in the Archives. These noble and courtiers were almost worse than the ones in the courtyard with how inane their conversations were. She locates Damrak again and taps him on the shoulder before whispering "I'm not sure if you've heard anything more promising, but there's nothing but some verbal jostling here as far as I can tell. I'm going to head to the servant's halls next and see if there are any good rumors to be had. Or good snacks if that fails." She audibly swallows. Food had been on her mind ever since they'd assembled for the Princess' speech.
Splitting off from Damrak, she heads for the Servant's Wing.
----------
Once there, she first gets herself something to nibble on underneath her veil and then focuses on listening in to conversations among the servers. She feels a lot more comfortable out here, further from the frippery of the noble encounters. But still not totally at ease. After all, even a servant finding out her true appearance would quickly lead to trouble.
After she's judged what kind of discussion seems to be the latest rage in the servant's wing, she joins in as well. If there's any servant who seems to be carrying something heavy, she helps them with it and walks with them for long enough to ask a few questions about their thoughts on the Senators.
Despite the rumors, primarily espoused by proponents of primogeniture, that the High Strategos is more likely to succeed the Grand Prince than Princess Eutropia, Maxillar Pythareus is still the very image of a veteran soldier. Despite entering his early forties, the man remains muscular and keeps his silver hair closely cropped. Even though he spends more time now in the senate and other opulent halls, his skin remains tanned and weathered by years spent under the elements.
For the gala, he has worn a fine blue-and-green tabard, emblazoned with the Taldan coat of arms to complement the empire's colors, to declare that he is loyal to his nation above all else.
Nevertheless, the way he carries himself among the other nobles suggests that he is not entirely closed to polite conversation. This certainly must be true if he has any desire to become Grand Prince Stavian's heir as rumors would suggest.
Your earlier brush with the High Strategos also suggests that he has a soft spot for equestrianism, as you suspected the barest ghost of a smile when you feigned knighthood for a lark.
Chana finds servants hard at work preparing appetizers and the light supper for later, and they are too deferential to protest as she steals some samples.
As you explore the servants' wing, it quickly becomes clear that the many cooks, servers, maids, and other attendants are very nervous to have an apparent noblewoman in her finery seemingly watching their work.
Your offers to help them carry trays and platters seem to soften their wariness, but they politely decline and shuffle off on their way.
Surprisingly, you overhear very little gossip about the affairs of nobles. Instead, you discover servants venting bitterly about annoying coworkers who don't carry their own weight, complain about everything, or are otherwise are unpleasant to work with. This turn is unexpected, but after some thought, it begins to make sense to you. It seems likely that nobles would have embedded eyes and ears among the staff, so the servants may be too reluctant to speak poorly of vengeful aristocrats who may be privy to their words after the fact.
”Not the slightest offense taken.” Photinè smiles back. ”I’m rarely one to shy away from a touch of scandal; better to wear it like a feather in my hat and pay no mind to the disapproval. Par exemple,” she gestures broadly at the crowd, obviously referring to the hostility she’d received for her earlier actions.
”They look at me distastefully, but in another few moments, they will return to gossiping about your dress—which is lovely by the way, a wonderfully flattering choice—and forget my little faux pas entirely.”
“Not that I’m above a bit of gossip myself. I am Taldan, after all,” she grins, but then takes on a more serious expression. ”My Lady, I’ve lived here most of my life; it is my home, and I love it dearly. I’d nearly given up any hope of living to see it change for the better. But tonight, it seems possible.”
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Round 2
Olivia smiles with delight. Others may think that she's elated with the conversation, but in truth it's because this is the one weapon he could have pointed out that she had actually studied. "It simply means that he's listening and taking an interest in our history, which I truly encourage. Indeed, Dignity's Barb has such a splendid history. That Kellid warlord was **conversates historically**. It was a terrible shame to lose the actual weapon, but that's exactly why I say that the originals should not be left in the hands of the public. They should remain safe and secure within the hands of the families that they belong to. Let there be replicas for the world to see, but keep our great history safe for the scholarly and of noble-heart who wish to see the real thing."
Nevertheless, she holds back her words for a time in a tense, contemplative silence that borders on awkward. Her smile vanishes as she purses her lips, as though trying to make an important decision. Finally, the smile returns.
"Would you like me to introduce you to the princess? I think she would quite enjoy meeting a woman of your uncanny character."
Your knowledge and appreciation for the artifacts on display in the arcade do not go unnoticed. A middle-aged woman, whose spectacles only accentuate the pallor and wrinkles upon her face, sidles over to you and strikes up a conversation.
"If nothing else, I'm glad that at least sincere effort was put forth into these replicas," she says, a smile growing upon her face as she talks. "Not just that they used actual darkwood and managed to copy the pattern of the brass inlay just like the original, but even the smaller details were carried over.
"Just look here," she says exuberantly, bending down and pointing a slender finger towards an inscription upon the stock. "They included the name of General Gerefein, the crossbow's owner, and even etched it using the proper style for writing names that was popular at the time.
"Dignity's Barb gained its notoriety when General Gerefein helped turn the tide of battle with two well-placed shots, in the midst of a blizzard no less. I only wish there weren't such conflicting accounts of the warlord commanding the opposing Kellid forces, since that remains a gray spot in the weapon's history."
She digresses enough from her discussion of history to introduce herself as Copernia Vau, curator of antiquities for the senate. Having taken a shine to you, it is clear that she could probably talk for hours about the exhibits on display. While she does continue on for a few minutes, she has the wherewithal to cut herself short.
"I almost forgot! I'd been hoping to find guests with such a genuine interest in our history so I could offer a tour of the restoration room and a hands-on demonstration of how we clean and preserve the artifacts."
She draws two small bottles from her apron and offers them to you. Their labels are clearly marked: Unguent of Timelessness and Universal Solvent.
"These are some of the magical agents we use in the preservation process. Why don't you hold on to them for now? If you have time, please come back in a little while for the tour and demonstration. Hopefully I'll find some other interested guests and it won't just be me prattling on at you."
[ooc]The magic vials are yours to keep. This tour she offers is meant to be an opportunity to steal the relics that are part of the Theft mission. While she is distracted by giving the restoration demonstration, normally whoever tries to steal the relics gets a +5 bonus to the Sleight of Hand checks. However, the situation can also be used to get a bonus on attempts to Bluff Copernia to allow you to take the items.
Rebuffed by the servants that she had expected to feel comfortable with, Chana stands for a moment with arms crossed, staring at their passing forms.
"Woul'n't ye know i' Snips. Up-nosed rich folks gone an' infected 'em wit their nastiness." She shakes her head slightly, disbelieving that the games all the nobles play could be so easily absorbed by honest folk.
---------
Not one to sit around and contemplate things for long, Chana heads off in search of the most suspicious of the senators she's seen so far: Abrielle Pace. She makes her way up to the gallery and takes a long stroll around its perimeter to locate the Countess. She comes up within twenty paces or so of Pace and leans against the railing, looking down to the festivities (if they can be called that at all in Chana's eyes) of the floor below.
While she pretends to people watch, she really strains her ears to listen in to Pace's conversations and try to judge how to best approach her.
Khalil nods from Kalbio towards the Princess, who was still surrounded by numerous other nobility at the moment, “I would love to speak with her. And frankly I feel that you should as well. I think it would be good for everyone to see that she is not just proficient with pretty words, that she truly believes the things she says. I believe she is genuinely happy to have you joining the ranks of the nobility shortly. She congratulated you earlier but if we can find a good way into the conversation perhaps we can take a moment to simply talk with her. If that is alright with you Master Kablio?”
As Khalil talks he focuses on the Princess as much as possible, thinking of everything he had heard from her. If he could get her attention and notice in this kind of social setting it could do wonders for him in the long run. After all, he wanted to be a Senator one day. And besides, he wanted to see just how she interacted with Kalbio on a more one on one setting than the previous speech. Although he had sounded confidant until he really spoke with her he couldn’t be sure of how honest she was in her motivations and aspirations. Still he longed to believe that she was the kind of person deserving of his support and admiration. For now, while he waited on Kalbio’s okay to approach the Princess he listened in for any suitable segway that might give him a potential in on the conversation she was having at the moment.
- - -
Photinè smiles, acknowledging the compliment. ”I would be very happy to meet such a remarkable woman.”
Khalil is crowded out by the many others who seek even a word from the princess, and he cannot draw close enough to learn even the barest glimmer of her character, much less how to approach her socially.
It may not be popular among your comrades, but you're certain that a tougher approach can break through Pace's defenses - especially given how much she's given herself over to drink so early in the evening. Furthermore, not only would it be effective to cow her with a little intimidation, but you suspect you might enjoy it, as well.
"Givin' 'er a little spook would be good wouldn'it... but that's never been my way. An 'ere a lot more's on the line than jus' some street cred."
Chana tunes Pace out for a moment and looks down from her perch, eyes open for any of her newfound 'allies'. At the very least she could pass the information on and someone else could give it a try.
The information about the foibles of past senators in immuring their workers doesn't surprise Damrak at all. If anything, it reassures him that people will remain people whatever the circumstances, whether in the worst slums of the Narrows, or the marble halls of power.
On which note, he reminds himself, he needs to re-visit Countess Pace. He has some inkling of her loyalties, such as they are, but he needs proof.
Easily locating her again, he spends some time quietly observing her before making his approach.
That done, he then bows as he walks up to her.
"Countess." He listens to her, waiting for the right opportunity to make his influence felt. "I was in two minds on the Princess' speech - on the one hand, Taldor is built on millenia of tradition and we interfere with that at our peril. But on the other hand, do we not need to adapt to the changing times? I was wondering what wisdom your own insights bring."
Flattery will get you most places, he has learned.
Countess Abrielle Pace is no ravishing beauty; indeed, it is perhaps only her gauche noble clothing and fine jewelry that sets her apart from the average Taldan woman in Oppara. It seems likely that she intends her clothing and accessories to make up for, if not mask, this mere adequacy. Her brown hair, kept piled and locked down in a stylized bun adorned with feathers, reinforces this perception of her.
Perhaps most noticeably, among a group of aristocrats whom you judge to be firm supporters of Eutropia, Countess Pace speaks of her steadfast dedication to the princess' cause and overturning primogeniture. She then latches herself upon a smaller circle that includes the Baronet Duranis Cicato and Earl Calhadion Vernisant - known detractors of the princess and supporters of preserving primogeniture. Will Countess Pace's attitudes shift in such company?
When you first approach her, you notice a flicker in her smile. She quickly appraises you, particularly your well-groomed features and impeccable clothes, and seemingly judges that you are worth her time. Your flattery seems to firmly plant a foothold upon her good graces, and her demeanor subtly shifts to become more welcoming.
"Oh, but Taldor's firmest tradition is to endure, as the princess herself so finely stated," Countess Pace says with a flourish to impress the other guests nearby. "She is unproven everywhere except in street duels. We don't need an unladylike brute to wear the Primogen Crown. We need a statesman who can guide Taldor through the troubled waters back to our heights of glory."
Although Baronet Cicato is more tepid in his response, Earl Vernisant heartily agrees with Pace's words, and he further insists that Princess Eutropia would only deepen the empire's fall from power. You pay little heed as he takes over the conversation, as you are content with this confirmation of Countess Pace's hollow loyalties. She is certain to flip on the princess if it would suit her desires.
These social "guards" make no move to stop you, escorted as you are by the princess' confidant.
"Your grace," Lady Morilla says with a hint of coy sardonicism, a tone you suspect no one else could use with the princess and survive (at least socially), "There's someone I'd like to introduce you to: Miss Photinè Michèle."
Princess Eutropia offers a curious grin but leaves the air quiet for you to speak first.
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Round 3
Olivia takes the vials (after a good explanation of what they do, since she has no idea how magic or alchemy work). She places them in her clutch, then says "Thank you Ms Vau. As a matter of fact I think I know some people who would be interested in the tour. If you'd excuse me, I think I'll let them know right away."
Olivia will start searching for Chana, who is in Olivia's mind the next sketchy-est person who might take over for Amandine. She'll start by travelling to the gardens (A2) and try to find any of her co-workers who can point her in the right direction.
Keeping pace with Lady Morilla, Photinè appears to barely notice the people dispersing to let them past; her attention rests ahead on Princess Eutropia and her inner circle.
"My lady." Photinè curtsies elegantly, meeting the princess' eyes as she does so. "I am pleased to find myself in the company of such exceptional women," she smiles, glancing from Eutropia to Gloriana, and back again.
"Your words tonight were inspiriting, but I sense they are more than just words; I look forward to the long-overdue change you have set in motion."
Chana listens in as Damrak approaches the Countess. The conversation between them isn't much, but it shows to Chana that more than just intimidation will work out just fine with the woman.
'She seems a 'aight simple soht... but not someone tah mess 'round with'
Khalil, seeing that the woman who managed to apprehend the young serving man near the beehives earlier with Damrak had approached the Princess used that as his chance to step forward as well. He gently waved Kalbio forward as well, “I think a number of us here hope for a great change tonight. This country has such a wondrous past, but it could have an even more glorious future if it was guided in the right direction by brilliant young men and women working together for such a goal.”
At this he smiles at both Photine and the Princess. A part of him struggled simply to not gush in front of the Princess, she was a personal hero of his after all. But he was curious about this other woman and he was in public so he restrained himself as best he could, which resulted in him smiling like a child with a present. He bows low to the Princess then to Phontine, “Madame I don't believe I have had the pleasure. I am Khalil al-Shirin Duvan, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. And I thank you for your intersession beside my friend earlier during the speech. It would have been truly tragic had something interrupted it.”
- - -
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You wonders whether the faintest suggestion of a curl at the corner of the princess' lips is indeed a glimmer of a grin, or merely the work of imagination.
"It is a delight to meet you," Eutropia says simply, offering something in between a bow and a curtsy.
While Eutropia's reaction is hardly monumental, the fact that the princess acknowledges your presence certainly resonates with the crowd at large. You can hear whispers, and feel glances, from the aristocrats and courtiers who wonder whether this mature woman with the bearing of a teen has won the much-sought favor of Princess Eutropia.
Although not much, you learn enough to make the barest headway when talking with Eutropia - a prize that many courtiers would kill for, perhaps literally.
Furthermore, it is also clear from the way she meanders through the menagerie set up in the courtyard - seemingly more ready to give attention to the critters on display than the nobles figuratively clawing over each other for her favor - that Eutropia has a soft spot for animals.
.....
Photinè's introduction to Princess Eutropia is abridged as another would-be courtier, Khalil, approaches. At first it seems that the princess will evade the man, making herself as scarce as a fading fox, but then she takes notice of Kalbio - the man of the evening - keeping close company with Khalil. With subtle signals to Lady Morilla and her other social guards, Eutropia wordlessly welcomes Khalil into her presence.
Eutropia offers another cursory acknowledgement to Khalil before turning her attention to Kalbio, chatting pleasantly with the noble-to-be, and leaving Khalil and Photinè to acquaint themselves.
You also notice many bitter, envious eyes from nobles left aghast that the mere tapestry weaver has earned so much favor from the princess.
You each feel a slight thrum radiating out from the senate aide badges pinned to your clothes, followed soon by Martella Lotheed's voice - not in your ear, but rather seeming to well up from the space between your ears.
"Please join me on the gallery," Martella requests. "We must discuss the evening's progress."
It does not take much time at all to excuse yourselves, ascend to the upper walkways of the gallery, and locate your patroness. The first of you to arrive catch her grinning and clapping with delight as she watches Wyssilka entertain some children - their faces painted like animals - with a garishly dressed hand puppet.
However, as soon as she sees you approach, Martella hurriedly composes herself and resumes the demurred appearance of an upwardly mobile aristocrat. She invites you to a private corner in the gallery that she has sectioned off. Several chairs have been arrayed, and a fresh pot of coffee sits on an accompanying table.
"I hope you are enjoying the evening thus far," Martella says as she invites you all to take a seat. "Imagine my surprise to look down and discover you'd already earned a private audience, no matter how brief, with the princess herself. You don't know what an accomplishment, what an honor that is. I see you've also met another of my agents: Miss Photinè. I approached her about aiding me at tonight's gala only a few days before I reached out to the rest of you."
Due to her position already up on the balcony when her badge buzzes and does its creepy 'talk right into your head' thing, Chana has plenty of time to locate Martella and arrive while she's still watching the jester run through her skit.
'Seems the boss' go' a relaxed side to 'er too. Be nice if she was like that more 'a the time.'
Chana approaches Martella with a little wave to get her attention, and then follows her to the private corner. In the few moments before everyone else assembles, Chana is happy to stay quiet and watch Martella from behind her veil.
At Martella's prompting, she responds with "Oh, its been wonderful so far. I've met more noblewomen and noblemen already tonight than at any other gathering I've been to. A touch overwhelming even."
Despite her words, Chana's voice carries a hint of irritation. While she's not outright unhappy about the evening so far, it probably hasn't been 'wonderful' for her.
Tanglefoot returns to the gallery at Martella's signal. Should be a good chance to share what we've learned, he thinks to himself. He smiles broadly at Wyssilka as he passes and joins the gang in Martella's alcove. The bard takes a seat, fills a mug with coffee, and sips carefully before going for the sugar and cream, heaping on loads of each.
After Chana answers, Tanglefoot says "I've had mixed success myself. I'm popular up here, as may be expected, but I can't seem to figure out what exactly makes that halfling tick," as he gestures to Wyssilka.
He thinks for a moment, "Oh, and I remembered that the High Strategos is a great lover of horses. In a normal way, that is. Maybe in a weird way too, I don't know. But anyway, if you try to make friends with him, horsemanship and horse-rearing might make for good topics of discussion."
He looks around the table for a snack before continuing, "I haven't seen him doing anything suspicious yet, but I'll keep watching him."
Photinè politely extends a hand to Khalil in response, and offers her name. Noticing his senate aide badge, she smiles;
"It seems we have a mutual friend here tonight."
Receiving Martella's call as if on cue, she offers her arm, tacitly asking him to escort her to the gallery. "Shall we, monsieur?"
Arriving in the gallery, the tall woman helps herself to a cup of black coffee before taking a seat. She arranges herself attractively, smoothing the dark-green silk of her dress over her long legs, and produces a small pot of lipstick and a powder compact that she uses to deftly touch up her makeup.
She grins at the rest of the party when Martella introduces her. "A pleasure to be working with all of you."
"It has certainly been an exciting evening, thus far." She pulls the object she took from the servant earlier and places it on the table. "A servant was ordered by a Taldan Phalanx guard to place this in the apiary. I'm not entirely certain what it is, but the poor boy was nearly sick with nervousness, so I... relieved him of it."
Under her veil, Chana cracks a smile at Tanglefoot. The good humor is audible in her voice as she responds with "I didn't doubt you would be! Oh, you didn't happen to hear what the Strategos' opinion on Primogeniture might be, did you? Gathering information is proving... tricky." She quickly raises her gloved hands towards Martella. "Uh, nothing we cant handle, of course."
When Photinè takes her seat with the group and is introduced by Martella, Chana extends her hand to shake the newcomer's.
"How absolutely wonderful to meet you Photin-ay" She struggles with reproducing the name's pronunciation. "Glad to have another person to work with us. I hope we can talk some more later, you and I." She inclines her head in a clear nod. When Photinè shows off the wafer retrieved from the servant, Chana leans back in her seat for a moment before saying "I'm not too sure. Anyone have an idea?"
'I do 'ave a feelin' wot it might be...'
Khalil take her hand properly as he is greeted by Photine. As soon as she had a chance to comment on their badges they received the call. He was loath to leave the Princess’ presence but having been welcomed into it was a definite feather in his cap. Just wait until he got a chance to tell his mother he had gotten the chance to talk to the Princess in person, she’d have a fit of envy. Khalil takes Photine’s arm as gracefully as he can and leads them off towards the gallery. As he turns to go he calls to Kalbio briefly, “Please entertain yourself for a moment, I wish to have a private word with Madame Michele. I promise I will track you down momentarily.”
Continuing to play the gentleman Khalil pulls back Photine’s seat before moving over to take his own. It appeared Tanglefoot and Chana beat them to the meeting but he didn’t see head or tails of Damrak or Olivia just yet. He happily pours himself a cup of coffee and takes a sip of it black. Adding sugar or cream to regular coffee made it almost painfully sweet to him when it came to most regular coffee. His mother had often imported Keleshite Coffee, a stimulant so strong that in certain places it was considered a drug. There were actually a number of coffee houses around Oppara that served it which had pleasantly surprised him. But you rarely found it at noble gatherings, the strong flavor didn’t always sit pleasantly on noble palates it seemed. He cast a glance around and took in the presence of the mechanical cricket like creature. They seemed to be incredibly useful devices. At the Lady’s comment about their meeting with the Princess he positively beams, “I must say I didn’t expect to get a chance to speak directly to her, much less actually receive recognition in front of the nobility. Ahh, I’ll savor the look on those hardliners faces for years to come when they saw the Princess welcome us to her presence.”
After the introductions were made between Photine and the others she produced the object she had taken from the servant earlier. Khalil leaned over and took a look at it, shaking his head in confusion, “The boy looked positively unnerved but I confess I have no idea what I’m looking at either Chana. Something tells me if he had reached the beehives it wouldn’t have been pleasant though, the whole situation just felt wrong. I'm glad Madame Michele and Master Lendar were able to intervene. Personally I am not entirely confidant about my progress with Baron Okerra. But I intend to go and speak to him with Kalbio, I feel the young man will make a positive impression on the Baron.”
Although she shows no outward signs, Martella seems to note the thinly veiled irritation in Chana's voice.
Rather than comment upon it, she instead removes her gloves and accepts the strange disc to examine. A keenly interested expression forms upon her face, her eager curiosity easy to observe. She holds the disc close to her nose smell the strange gewgaw, she turns it over, then sets it aside on a cloth napkin.
"An alchemical wafer, not unlike a form of incense," Martella explains, wiping residue from her fingertips on another napkin. "Whatever temporary social sanctions you may have faced for slipping away, you certainly did the right thing. The scent emitted from that wafer is intended to agitate swarming insects. Whoever wanted it placed was likely hoping to see the princess' speech interrupted, painfully even."
As talk turns to the evening's objectives, her look of curiosity fades back into the guarded expression of an aristocrat.
"The High Strategos' stance is no mystery. You'd be hard pressed to find a firmer supporter for primogeniture's continuance, both because of his traditionalist streak and simply because he stands to benefit the most out of anyone from the current succession law. What I'm interested in is discovering if he's found any new, unanticipated ways of carrying forth this agenda.
"Baron Okerra and Duke Centimus are more so the wild cards, so to speak - especially the baron. Although not a senator himself, Okerra's word carries weight and could sway many others' votes."
Martella pauses to sip of her coffee. She sets it aside with a wince, evidently deciding that it needs more cream.
"However, I didn't ask you here just to look over your shoulders. There's another young woman here upon whom we must keep an eye: Malphene Trant, the daughter of Senator Trant. She's a belligerent, narcissistic ass," Martella says, momentarily dropping her decorum, "and a bully as well. If she's here, it's likely to intimidate some of the junior senators into backing her father.
"Senator Trant couldn't care less about women's rights, but much of his influence comes from staunchly supporting the High Strategos as a potential heir to the Grand Prince. Trying to cow younger senators into backing primogeniture is just another step in that agenda.
"If one or more of you could keep an eye on Malphene and...quietly intercede should she try such an act of intimidation, I would be quite grateful."
She leans back in her chair, sipping at the coffee delicately, listening to Martella speak.
"I would be delighted to give Miss Trant my attention; she sounds like quite the woman."
"Intricate." Damrak is admiring the clockwork insect, noting its function. He bows to Lady Lotheed. "One of your creations?"
He gives a quick bow to Photine as Lady Lotheed introduces her, as well as a brief smile. "I might have known you were another of Her Ladyship's agents. I look forward to working with you."
He nods at the instructions. "I will keep an eye out for Miss Trant."
"Senator Trant, is it? Is he here as well?" "And this daughter of his, she isn't a senator as well, is she?"
As she thinks about what to do, Chana unconsciously starts cracking her knuckles one by one.
"If there's anyone that would be worth trying to turn to support abolishing primogeniture, it seems to me it would be the High Strategos. He seems to have a lot of influence. But other than keeping an eye on him, you haven't asked anyone to in... intercede. Why is that?"
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"Malphene Trant" starts Olivia from the back of the group. "The thug of court. I've met her more often than I care to. I'm perfectly fine leaving her to Mr. Lendar and Ms. Michèle."
Olivia is both patient and attentive. She will dutifully wait until it is appropriate to bring up a new topic.
Olivia approaches a little more to address Lady Martella properly.
"My lady, have you per chance sent Amandine on a different task? I have lost track of her, and she hasn't been in the arcade of triumphs for the mission. I've secured a tour in the restoration room to help facilitate the mission, but I was relying on her to get the actual job done."
After the Lady's response:
"One final thing. I received these vials from Ms Vau. I don't know anything about alchemy, but you're surely the most knowledgeable person in this realm. Would you mind explaining to me what these do?"
Malphene is also known to be adept as a fighter. While certainly no master duelist, she can back up her intimidation with either fists or sword.
The Trant family as a whole hails from the Whitemarch prefecture in southern Taldor, and the Trants are quick to use the threat of Qadiran aggression to maintain control of their holdings.
"Malphene is not a senator herself. She and her cadre of bored, sycophantic nobles' sons just serve as rather...forceful agents for her father," Martella explains. "Ironically, they serve much the same role as 'legbreakers' might in a thieves' guild. Strange, that parallel between the two social worlds."
"Amandine will not be able to help you any longer this evening," Martella whispers. "There is nothing wrong, but a new development came to my attention, requiring immediate action. Of all of you, she was the most apt to handle the matter."
She takes the proffered vials and examines them, particularly the carefully inked labels.
"Although these are magical in nature, I am familiar with their use in my work. This Universal Solvent can dissolve any adhesive, even magic ones. This Unguent, on the other hand, is used to preserve organic matter - anything that was once alive, like paper or wood. Supposedly, when treated with this unguent, the passage of a year affects an item as though it were only a day. I've read that it never wears off, either, making it an exceptional tool for preserving old artifacts.
After explaining their function, she returns the vials to you.
"As for the High Strategos himself, you'd have as much luck besting him in a duel as convincing him to abandon primogeniture," Martella sighs. She looks around conspiratorially before reaching over for her brass cricket. She winds some tiny mechanism on the clockwork insect before continuing, keeping her voice low nonetheless.
"It has been suggested that the Grand Prince will use the cover of tonight's festivities to legally adopt the High Strategos and announce him as his favored heir. No one stands to gain more through the continuance of primogeniture than Maxillar Pythareus. Even if the Senate votes to abolish the practice, there will likely still be serious contention over succession between Princess Eutropia and Pythareus.
"This is information that absolutely cannot be repeated beyond our circle, but I feel it is important for you to know for our business together."
"Before everyone runs off," says Tanglefoot, "When I was up here earning favor, I also earned some dough. And was given some lovely gifts. Here, never hurts to have a little extra cash on hand at a gala, you never know who you'll need to bribe."
The fool redistributes his newfound wealth among the six adventurers, giving everyone 20 gold pieces.
"Also have this wand. Can anyone identify it?"
Chana lets out a brief but surprisingly rough guffaw at the mention of ANY nobles being the equivalent of a Thieves' Guild's legbreakers. After a moment to compose herself, she comments with "I should like to see that. Some noble thugs in action. Should be... amusing." She stretches her right arm, flexing it slightly as she contemplates what kind of order a noble gang could even have.
After Martella explains a bit more about the High Strategos, Chana add "So the Strategos has..." She halts, picking up on the sensitivity to talking about such topics out loud. "This is the first I hear about it, but I did not know too much about him really. From his appearance, he seemed a bit of a 'breaker', if you don't mind a bit of terminology to match what you said earlier Martella. Someone that's not much of thinker. Someone led by someone else." Chana shrugs.
When Tangle-foot offers a split of the gold, Chana accepts it readily. "Gold does tend to open doors. But I can only assume that the nobles here are so flush with it that even this sizable amount will hardly cause them to blink. Maybe it'll have more of an influence with the servants?"
"May I see it, darling?" Photinè reaches for the wand to examine it.
Chana heads out in search of Senator Trant, hoping to first gather some information on him before crafting her deception. After all, it'd have to be really believable, and that would be tough without at least observing the guy for a while.
Once/if she finds him, she'll hang around at a distance, trying to overhear his conversations with any of his followers. She gauges any of the discuss he has to try to evaluate topics he might avoid, things he reacts poorly to, or any other suspicious tells.
Tanglefoot decides to linger in the gallery for a little longer, still highly intrigued by the halfling Wyssilka the Fantabulous. He mulls over his coffee, thinking about how he might become friends with her.
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As best as you can tell from the design, the magic of this wand is meant to enhance something about the subject's character.
Listening to Trant speak to his colleagues - as well as whispers about him from those same colleagues - reveals a few sticking points for the senator from the Whitemarch prefecture. He is reliant on fear of Qadira when making arguments, such as why the High Strategos would be a better successor to the Grand Prince than Princess Eutropia.
However, this stance itself seems to also be a vulnerability for Trant. You suspect that he would react poorly to being accused of toadying up to Pythareus to gain power for his house, especially since this would undermine his position. While it would certainly be no scandal for a senator to support a cause only because of how it would benefit him, the slight to Trant’s honor and ego would be the bigger blow.
Lastly, you also glean some whispers from others on the periphery of Trant’s group. There is talk of whether the senator’s eventual goal is to replace House Darahan, the long-ruling family of Whitemarch, with House Trant. Once again, such a grasp for power is hardly unique among Taldor’s nobility; however, such an ambition - especially if made public - would earn much attention from both enemies of the Trants and allies of the Darahans.
It becomes quite obvious that many of your forte talents should be apt to influence the halfling entertainer: any number of performance outlets, a bit of disguise, or even a little creative truth bending should get you your way.
Chana pauses for a moment, leaning against a wall as she processes all the interesting information she's managed to glean. "Wot ya think Snips? Sounds like a goy wit a lotta 'oles. 'ow 'bout we start wit somefin' and see if it sticks?"
She makes her way through to the Arcade of Triumphs and pokes around until she can find some semi-reputable seeming gossipers. Leaning in conspiratorially, she offers "Sorry to interrupt you all, but I overheard something very very odd out in the courtyard. Senator Trant, talking with one of his close associates. Something about finalizing his plans for Whitemarch." She pauses to gauge how receptive the group might be to this discussion. "Their voices were lowered, but I overheard that he's planning to move against House Darahan. He passed his associate something in a small vial." Again she pauses, allowing her audience to imagine what that might mean. "And then said 'tonight'!"
As soon as she can tell that they're not quite buying her bluff, she pulls herself away from the group and laughs out loud (though half-way through she converts it to a more demure laugh). "So, how was it!? I've been working on my storytelling skills, dramatic readings, that kind of thing. Did my tale draw you in?"
She tries to extricate herself from the group before they think twice about her attempted rumormongering.
"I said ta' them I 'ain't go' a sense fer this. I told 'em! Maybe I'm gonna need a more straightline tack?"
Khalil enjoyed his coffee as they listened to Lady Martella explain the finer points of their progress thus far. After mentioning the Baron as a wild card that could lend them significant influence Khalil determined that he would try once again to gain the man’s favor after this meeting. Perhaps with Kalbio by his side his point of uniting Taldor across various barriers will carry more weight. While the news about the alchemical wafer and the appearance of the troublemaker Malphene Trant the biggest surprise was the mention that the Grand Prince may be adopting the High Stategos and announcing him as heir. That was just the kind of low move Khalil knew he should expect from the old guard of the Taldan nobility but their pettiness never ceased to amaze him. It was also a sign that even should they win the day with the vote, they still had a great deal of work ahead of them if they were to see their country improved. There was no doubt if the High Strategos inherited all their accomplishments for women and foreign relations would be dashed, “Since it seems a number of us are going to be able to keep an eye out for Lady Trant I believe it would be best if I made another go at convincing the Baron to lend us his aid. Especially if the vote is not the final step for us, it will be important to have people like him behind the Princess in the future.”
As he and his companions parted ways to their various tasks Khalil made his way back to Kalbio and motions the man to follow him, “I would like us to try talking to Baron Okerra again. If we could just think of a way to get through to him and convince him to support the end of primogeniture and led his voice to Princess Eutropia it could only lead to good things for this country. If only I could figure out a good way to approach him on the topic, something that could get through to him in a way most couldn’t.”
Whether or not he could find any weakness to work off of he decided that it was best to simply try once more to speak to the Baron. So he made his way back to the man, Kalbio trailing him the whole way. He stepped up and bowed respectfully before the Baron before he began. Then, thinking of his mother’s garden back home he launched into his appeal, “I hope you enjoyed hearing the Princess’ speech as much as I did. I pray that you can see from it that the Princess is a brilliant woman who seeks to grow Taldor into the best version of itself. She doesn’t wish to change things simply to tear down the old, she simply wishes for the new ideas to germinate and spread as well. Our glorious garden is being choked to death by years of old vegetation. No one is saying we should burn it down, but it does need to be tended.”
As the party disperses, Photinè politely thanks Martella before leaving the gallery.
She takes a glass of wine from the tray of a passing servant, swirling it expertly around before holding it to her lips; she finishes it quickly and snags another, drinking this one more slowly as she traverses with the crowds.
She mingles superficially, offering a charming word here and a coy smile there, all the while keeping an eye out for Miss Trant.
Chana grinds her teeth over her latest social flub. It wasn't the first, and it certainly wouldn't be the last, but somehow the fact that it was done solely to help Martella makes it all the worse. She convenes with Olivia, sighing and offering "No luck at all. Do you think it would be best to just confront Senator Trant directly? Or would that hurt me more?" She drops her volume "So damn complicated!"
Where one has failed, two might succeed. Keeping a reasonable distance from Khalil, so as not to seem too conspiratorial, Damrak will also approach Baron Okerra, trying to discern what (if any) susceptibilities he might have to particular forms of argument.
Olivia offers a bout of polite laughter in response to Miss Durante's "storytelling," lending a veneer of verisimilitude to the attempt at recovery.
"A direct confrontation probably would not fit Martella's needs," Olivia answers once she and Chana are away from the bewildered circle of nobles. "She's looking to discredit supporters of primogeniture, not just simply sway their votes. I suspect she hopes this spot of fraud will provide long-term advantage over a rival."
She offers a sigh before speaking again.
"I'm not one for skulduggery. I could try to support your next attempt at fabricating rumors about Senator Trant, but I'm not sure how much help I will be. If you feel confident in your abilities, Martella still has missives that she needs me to run."
You find the tall woman chatting with a pair of young swains who hang vacantly upon her every word.
Baron Nicolaus Okerra is a handsome bear of a man, standing a head taller than most of the crowd. While flecks of white in his black hair and beard have begun to betray his age, he retains a youthful smile and gentle eyes.
As Damrak observes the baron speaking first with the others, and then with Khalil, he makes several important discoveries. First, many people have flocked to him, seeking his insight on the prime debate tonight: primogeniture. It becomes evident that many see Okerra as one of Taldor's chief defenders of law and order, so it becomes little wonder why - as Martella indicated - his word carries much weight.
Second, it seems that while Okerra is not a senator and possesses no vote, he supports preserving primogeniture.
As Khalil approaches, Okerra offers a polite half-bow and welcomes him and Kalbio into his presence. The sight of the soon-to-be exalted weaver brings a brighter smile to the baron's face. Okerra listens courteously as Khalil speaks his peace.
"I can see what you are hinting at, my good sir. I find this has been a common misconception this evening," Baron Okerra says to Khalil in the manner of a veteran mentoring a recruit. "I have the utmost respect for our Princess Eutropia. It is not her gender that gives me pause. It is her character and likely course of actions. What you call 'old vegetation' I call centuries of law and values - all of which should not be wantonly pruned away wholesale."
Baron Okerra beckons Khalil and Kalbio into a private conversation, though Damrak maintains a close enough placement to overhear. Kalbio remains mute. While he is over the moon to be with two people who seem to accept him as a peer, he still feels out of his element and lets the "big city folk" do the talking.
"I admit, it is perhaps the only shard of doubt in my heart. Although Princess Eutropia is a strong woman, and I would be honored to fight at her side, I fear that her actions could endanger the stability of Taldor's law."
Listening in, Damrak makes his third keen discovery. Baron Okerra's "weakness" is this concern for Taldor's law and stability. If he could be convinced that Eutropia's succession, and her potential reign as Grand Princess, would not endanger order in the empire, he could be convinced to come around about primogeniture.
Tanglefoot tries to think up a way to use his skills as a performer to impress Wyssilka as he makes his way back downstairs and towards the Arcade of Triumphs. He stops at a table and procures an empty, or nearly empty bottle, and then proceeds to rub his cheeks and nose furiuosly with his hands, trying to redden his face. He then continues on to the Arcade of Triumphs, doing his best to appear intoxicated as he enters the room. He finds a seat somewhat near where the High Strategos is positioned, and feigns falling asleep from drunkenness. He secretly tries to listen in on Pythareus's conversations.