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Gargalus is a well built half-orc with mutiple scars. Despite his impressive stature, he looks like someone you can talk to. Even in the security of the Lorsespire Complexes, he wears a makeshift heavy armor that seems to have seen better days, on it the logo of the VitariTech Bloodsport's Team in Akiton.
A big, half smoked, cigar in hand he says with a jovial voice Hi Guys! I'm Gargalus, Arena's Gladiator of Akiton! Pleasure to meet you all!
If you need someone to punch a guy to pulp, I'm your guy! If you need someone to talk instead, I'm your guy too! I'm also used to repair my own armor and tools, he says playing with his big axe so If you need a repair guys, I can do, but only for machines. he finishes with a big smile
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A large and burly vesk (large and burly even for a vesk) steps forward. He has blue scales, and wears light Defrex Hide armor. It is stylized for showmanship as much as utility. A mote of red energy floats over his shoulder. "Hey there. I'm a gladiator too!" He beams at Gargalus. He holds up his axe. "I have one of those, too!" A starknife also hangs from his belt.
"Anyway, my name is Bakoyo, but you guys can all call me Flameclaw, which is my name on the fighting circuit. Pact Worlds Gladiator Federation, ya know. Maybe you've seen my self-defense video training series on HoloTube? No? That's okay. Got like 8,000 followers, but that's okay. Um, let's see ... Oh, yeah ... I got trapped in the Scoured Stars with Jadnura and the other guys, but got rescued about a year ago. I also punch guys, and can talk too, and can also be ..." he pauses dramatically "... very stealthy."
He smiles around. Then, as if remembering something, snaps his fingers. "Oh, and I can do this ..." He holds out his hand and looks like he is concentrating very hard. Across the room, a small trash bin slowly levitates into the air. "Cool, huh?"
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A dwarf walks in, though walking is probably not the right term...maybe stomps, or even barrels in would be better. If the automatic door didn't open as you got close to it, you would think he would just walk through the door. He is wearing very nice heavy armor with the symbol of Iomedae on the chest, a symbol of the hammer on the left gauntlet and the symbol of the anvil on the right gauntlet. Obvious weapons include a decently large sword and a reaction cannon on his back.
"Right. Names Baragh Dented Helm. From Salvation's End. Been here since you all helped us out of our little situation. I am a priest of Torag, though since he seems have been lost somehow, Iomedae has allowed me to worship her in his absence, and I worship her faithfully, with the understanding I am here to look for my lost god."
Looking around he sees decently large and imposing people, "And right...seems me da's teaching is going to be needed again. I can tell by the cut of these people's jib's that this is not going to be a hoity toity mission...probably something to do with snipers, explosions and multiple waves of baddies. Just my kind of mission!" With that he takes out a flask of...something...and takes a good hit of it.
"I am good at bein' in the front, taking the hits. Me da taught me that...said 'son, we are meant to hit and get hit', so that is my motto. I like scrapping it out...and big green", looking at Gargalus, "...if you want to punch people, sometime we should spar. Been looking for a good sparring partner." With that he smiles and offers Gargalus the flask.
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Through the doors enter a rather medium sized Ysoki with a brown color fur. He wears an unmarked military uniform, frequently used by mercenaries. On his right arm, you can see a medic patch which compliments a med bag carried on his shoulder.
He stands in the doors and glances through the aliens assembled thinking that once again muscles dwarfed the brains and he laughs at his own joke.
"Hi, My name is Spike, yet friends call me Croaker. Radaszam ordered me to join this party to make sure that everyone comes home. I will watch over you and stitch you back if needed."
He looks through the faces and addresses the Half-Orc:
"Gargalus the gladiator... Haven't you fought a shobhad with bare fists? If so I watched your fight a few years before joining mercenaries. That was a bloodbath!"
He shakes his hand smiling. Later he turns to Vesk:
"Flameclaw ... of course. I was practicing hand combat with a trainer who used your videos as a base for training. I loved the tips for fighting with a club against a doshko. Good stuff. It is a pleasure to meet you Flameclaw."
Later he walks towards the dwarf:
"Baragh, Baragh ... I heard your name before."
After a few seconds, his eyes go big and he asks:
"I heard a story while playing a lucky game of cards, about a dwarf called Baragh who used cadaver as a shield against a couple of snippers. Apparently, he kept running with it for more than 200 ft. It wasn't you, was it?"
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The door to the well-appointed conference room opens, and Chiskisk, a member of the Starfinder Society’s Forum, enters, their antennae bobbing rhythmically as they move to take a seat at the head of the table.
“Welcome, colleagues. As you know, the Starfinder Society has been quite efficacious of late. The acts of brave agents like yourselves has made the Society once-again respected and known throughout Near Space and even in some areas of the Vast. We have been quick to capitalize on these new opportunities. Recently, the Society has reached out to nearly a dozen new civilizations with which we have mutual interests. At this moment, the Lorespire Complex is brimming with ambassadors, dignitaries, and probably also spies from many worlds.
“I had the honor to conclude preliminary negotiations with one such ambassador. They are about to sign an exclusive exploration and trade treaty with the Starfinder Society, largely based on our recent exploits. However…” the shirren pauses awkwardly, then moves to an expansive window that overlooks the Lorespire campus.
“The delegate has requested a recess in negotiations to explore Absalom Station before signing the agreement. Of course, I granted them freedom of the station, as long as they accepted an escort of local Starfinder agents to see to their every need.” The shirren turns back to face the conference table. “That ‘escort,’ of course, would be you!” Chiskisk slides a data disk across the table. “Here is the dossier on the visiting dignitary you’ll be escorting. Find out what they’re interested in seeing, and take them there. Be gracious hosts, entertaining tour guides, bodyguards, or social planners, as the dignitary requires. It should go without saying that this emissary’s safety and security are paramount, as is their continued goodwill toward the Society. If you do a good job, we might just secure the opportunity to explore a new wolrd. Any questions?”
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Glahr Tradok
The following can be discovered about Nuar
Nuar look like smaller versions of lost Golarion’s legendary minotaurs, although the Nuar claim they are a distinct species.
The Nuar of Absalom Station are a wise and peaceful people, despite how their appearance may suggest otherwise. No other settlements of Nuar are known beyond Absalom Station
Nuar are enamored with technology and invention, yet also have a strong appreciation for the cultural traditions of others.
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Flameclaw listens carefully, nodding, and then smiles as the mission is fully described. "Flameclaw is very good at being diplomatic!" With that declaration, he immediately closes his eyes, stands very straight and rigid, and ... falls asleep? No, not asleep, as attested to by the gentle but constant humming sound he makes. After precisely 62 seconds of this, his eyes snap open.
"Are we supposed to negotiate with this Nuar? Or just show him around?"
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Hearing Croaker mention the sniper's alley and the corpse, Baragh nods, "Aye, ye are talking about the mission with Vecro, and the corpse's name was dubbed Civ, as he was so full of holes he was almost a sieve by the time we were done. I prayed to Iomedae to take his soul when it got to the Boneyard, and that he wouldn't hold it against me for using his body as a shield."
Baragh nods politely as Chiskisk comes in.
As he listens to the briefing, Baragh's jaw doesn't exactly fall to the floor, but it was close. As Chiskisk hands out the dossier and finished the briefing, Baragh finally remarks, "What? Babysitting a diplomat in Absolam Station....and here I thought with all this muscle and guns around this table, we were going to be sent out to storm the gates of Apostae itself!"
As he reads the dossier, and compares it to what little he knows about nuar, Baragh chuckles lightly, "Though, a babysitting job does sound much easier than all I have been sent out lately to do....I just now got the sand and radiation out of my armor from the last mission. I think I can handle a milk run like this."
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Chiskisk responds the concerns of babysitting. "This visitor is coming from a place that hasn’t had a lot of contact with the Pact Worlds. A single misunderstanding out in the wider station could result in animosity toward us, resulting in the end of these negotiations. Consider yourselves both ambassadors and chaperones for someone who isn’t accustomed to the station.”
Turning to Flameclaw. "There isn't anything specific at this time that is being negotiated. We hope this to be a cultural exchange and lead to other opportunities for future endeavors. You goal is present the Starfinder Society in a good light that we may then capitalize on later"
If there are no more questions, you are given the address to an apartment in the central housing areas of the Lorespire. You reach the door and ring the bell. It opens and you hear a deep baritone voice from one of the back rooms. "Just leave the wine corked and set out the castrovelian bouillabaisse there." You also hear some higher pitched giggling from the room as well. "Don't worry it should still be the right temperature when we are done"
The room is mostly furnished in the typical non-descirpt style of any hotel room. However there is in one corner a stand with an impressive suit of armor, with military decorations, as well as some stylized but still functional high quality weapons.
Hedonism. Given the current company and the supposed castrovelian bouillabaisse, the dignitary sees their time on Absalom Station as a way to let loose, and enjoys fun locations, fast vehicle rides, and thrilling experiences of all kinds.
Insults. The Armor and equipment is more than just for show. It has been used and is ready to be used again at moments notice.
The dignitary is offended by rude or insulting behavior. Actions that break this taboo include insulting the dignitary (even in jest), being dismissive of the dignitary’s needs, or allowing an insult to go unchallenged and unavenged.
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Croaker walks after the team, still glancing at the dossier. After entering the apartment he starts to sniff the air moving his snout to the sides. When he hears what ambassador is saying Croaker smiles.
He pats Gargalus on his shoulder and says:
"How about we come back when the ambassador is over? None of you is smooth enough to repair the mood of the ambassador after we interrupt him. Let us go and grab a beer while looking if we can easily buy castrovelian bouillabaisse as a gift."
"It seems that ambassador enjoys entertainment, thrilling experiences. We might use it while choosing the places of interests."
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"Ambassadorship....gotcha. It just means I need to be quiet and hold a large stick. That way my mouth doesn't start an intergalactic war."
With the door opening, and the ambassador(?) calling out, Baragh wonders what people are staring at. Looking in, he sees the armor and quietly remarks to his group "I wonder if the ambassador actually won those decorations, or if they are just given out because he is an ambassador, and has family connections."
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You hear a exclamation:
By the untangled thread!
"A yes. The starfinders. I will be right out."
After a few moments the Nuar steps out in a fine and intricately decorated dressing robe. He looks each of you over. "Well you are not waiters that is for sure. But you will do. However my good companion is resting, and I am still famished. I suggest a good bit of food will hit the spot. Let me get in to something a bit more fitting my station and we can talk along the way to Perfexion. I hear it has the best Castrovelian eel soup"
He takes the armor off its stands and retreats back to the room to change.
Perfexion is one of the most popular restaurant in all of the Pact Worlds. Reservations are at least weeks if not months out. Given the spontianity of Tradock you doubt he made reservations before he got to the station
Tradock appears just as resplendent in his armored suit. "Come tell me a bit about yourselves" as he makes his way to the door.
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Flameclaw nods slightly in confused agreement with the ambassador.
He stammers a bit. "Uh, yes, I am Bakoyo, but am called by my gladiatorial name, Flameclaw. Perhaps you have seen my holonet vids on combat and self-defense tactics ... not that you need them, of course. It is clear that you, too, are a warrior, if I am not mistaken."
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As I said before, I'm Gargalus, Gladiator in the Arena of Akiton.
After a reflexion, he adds in common. I know this place Representative, It's a good choice, quite popular these days. Some will says too popular right now. I know some place more intimate and better to have the feeling of the real Absalom Station.
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Croaker doesn't know anything about Perfexion restaurant, yet Castrovelian eel soup sounds great.
"Ambassador! It is a pleasure to meet you, my name is Croaker. I am here to accompany you in learning the ins and outs of Absalom Station which very easy can be dull and boring as well as exciting and energetic. I can heal and I can charm, but my specialty is gambling: games, bets, races. Everything that makes you feel alive if you know what I mean, Ambassador."
Says Ysoki bowing modestly.
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Donovan stands in the ambassador's way. He scrutinized the nuar with a practiced warrior's eye. "That is some very nice armor. Is it an heirloom just for show or have you put it to use?" Donovan stands ready, but not threatening. His own armor is not as ornate, but is well kept even though it has obviously seen battle.
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"Perfexion, yeah, I have heard about it. Supposedly the most popular place to eat on Absolam Station. I think Gargalus has it right...that just sounds like a lot of good PR to me."
"Ambassador, my name is Barag Dented Helm, soldier and priest of fortune. Came from a small moon. Worshiper of Iomedae, and on a quest to find Torag. Haven't really met many nuar, but from what I know of them, you seem to be a bit different than the others of your race that I have heard about. Also, is Orc your common language? It was weird hearing you talk about the untangled thread in that language..."
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Tradock laughs. "But you must have the Eel soup. Or what ever is the best tonight. You all seem capable to secure a table"
You make your way to the entryway of Perfexion.
Reflective walls and an understated sign mark the location of Perfexion, one of Absalom Station’s most exclusive restaurants. A small crowd of well-dressed hopefuls lingers near the door while a red-velvet cordon keeps them back from passing into the establishment’s entryway.
A pair of Vesk bouncers look over your party. "Name for Reservation?"
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Once outside, Gargalus says to her comrades. Guys, I need some back-up, I will call some friends to help us.
After sending an holomessage through his datapad and adds They will wait for me in front of Perfexion.
In front of Perfexion are waiting four people, one hafling, one dwarf, one riforian and a very big purple morlamow!
Hi Guys! Thank you for coming along. This time no strange planet to explore, just an Ambassador to protect and entertained! Cool right.
After making the presentation, This is, Boule, Drak, Nolan and Honkk.
Gargalus smiles at the Vesk and says. Hey! You don't recognize me? or Flameclaw? We are Gladiators! We need to celebrate our 10,000 viewers combined after our last fight. We're ready to enjoy your Eel's soup! You sure have a large table for us all right?
the halfling Boule shines in Wouha! The FAMOUS Gargalus! And Flameclaw?! That you! I can't believe it!!! Can I have a holograph?
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Flameclaw, always pleased to meet his adoring audience (or whatever is happening here), goes into mugging for the camera mode. "Anything for fans!" He motions to the vesk bouncers. "Can you snap one of us? Will get you a signed copy for your wall." He reaches up and grabs his mother, which encircles his hand as it becomes a trio of long, serated clawblades protruding out from his knuckles. He brandishes them nonthreateningly, smiling with charm.
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Croaker seeing where this is heading, decides to help with his own tricks. He approaches the scene from the side where the queue of people stays, waiting to be admitted to the restaurant.
He asks a random person:
"Isn't it famous Flameclaw and Gargalus? On all secrets of Eloritu I need to make a picture of them."
After he says that Ysoki concentrates for an instant. After a second the crowd begins to talk with enthusiasm, and Croaker walks back and forth the line speaking how amazing it is that they are here and taking pictures of them using the flash extensively.
He hopes that his approach and the voices of appreciation will help aid the bouncers to make their minds.
"Miss, do you want to take a picture with Flameclaw and Gargalus? I can take it for you?" Ysoki asks a random woman in the line.
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The Vesk bouncers seem impressed that such well renowned gladiators would be here. They talk brief and after a few moments.
"Well This is fortunate for someone as yourselves. It seems there was a cancellation for the private dining room and I think you and your party will enjoy it."
You are escorted to the private room:
Elegant, transparent furnishings and multicolored lights fill this luxurious space with an ethereal glow. At each table, a small group of socialites watches in awe as dexterous chefs prepare food in a show that is as much acrobatic as culinary. Liveried waitstaff move between the tables, bringing beverages and clearing plates. A floor-to-ceiling holographic aquarium fills one wall between a pair of staircases, and large windows provide a breathtaking view of Jatembe Park.
After being seated and getting the first round of drinks. A Lashunta appears at your table. "I am Xenion, and I will be your chef for tonight. In order to better prepare the best Perfexion I would like to scan you thoughts to see what will truly excite your senses tonight. It is just is just a surface scan and I promise to keep it only to the cuisine at hand"
Tradock consents to the scan and looks forward to the surprise. Any one object?
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Croaker slips in, into the group of people entering the restaurant smiling like a kid that stole a candy of that performance near the entrance.
He selects a chair that is designated for aliens with tails and seats comfortably. Hearing about the scanning of thoughts Ysoki smiles even broader than before:
"Oh, please do."
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After the initial scan the chef smile and prepares the meal.
With great gusto Tradock dives in to the first course of roasted frujai frond steak over a bed of greens with a light green cream sauce.
You notice that Tradock's mouth is starting to swell as if due to some type of allergy
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Croaker happily begins going through his slow-cooked coiled larvas with fried vegetables. Suddenly he stops and takes a look at Tradock ...
Then he puts his utensils on the Table and stands up. He immediately stops smiling and asks Tradock with a serious face:
"Ambassador! With all due respect, I can see that your mouth is swelling, I think you have an allergic reaction. If you would allow me to do some quick examination?"
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Baragh allows his mind to be read...wondering exactly what they are looking for, but not bothering to ask.
Eating his succulent pig on a pile of sauteed mushrooms, and with a habanero spiced beer, Baragh doesn't seem to notice until Croaker brings up the issue.
"Good friends, it is a custom in my culture to try other foods while dining like this. Maybe we should do this?"
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Donovan's steak is perfectly cooked. At Croaker's remark he looks up in irritation until he sees that Tradock is swelling. "I see that you chose something with a hint of danger. The frond steak is delicious but it is known to be a dangerous meal." Donovan tries to suggest that Tradock's response is a 'normal' reaction to the food he chose. "We should probably be getting you to a doctor though."
He puts a credstick on the table to pay for the meal and begins to get up.
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Tradock stops eating the steak at the advice of Donovan and Croaker. "Yes it does feel a bit too...tangy on my lips."
The Chef looks at Tradock, "That is impossible! I have served this dish many times your bull headed brethren! You are just another one of low level dwellers putting on airs above your station!" The Lashunta brandishes his chef's knife threateningly at the Ambassador.
Tradock looks offended.
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Flameclaw stands to his full height, the mote of red light at his shoulder flaring. "You are stupid little man, but apologize to the ambassador now ... or I will think you poisoned the ambassador on purpose, maybe for politics or as hate crime ... but I will need to ... " he reaches slowly for the mote of energy ... "... detain you for the police."
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Scowling at the lashunta chef, and seeing that his friends are all being so intimidating, Baragh seems to want to be the voice of calm.
"Silly man, you have served other nuars before, but not one from his colony. They have been separate from the rest of their race for a long time, so he likely has not ever been exposed to that kind of meat before. Just because A nuar on the station can eat it, doesn't mean it should be served to ALL nuars."