TOZ's Passing the Torch (Inactive)

Game Master TriOmegaZero

Kasimir waits patiently, surely this would all come to a tipping point sooner or later. It was a shame the Society didn’t see the value in a proper chain of command. When everyone was ‘equal’, this is what happened.

Whisper tries to remember if any of the people that they have just seen are people of any importance to their mission.

KS-Local 25 (take 10), KS-Nobility 25 (take 10)

Judging from his attire and the looks given towards him, the man at the feasting table is Stanton Strake. The man in the eyepatch does not seem to be notable to Whisper's recollection. The two women appear to be well-educated and gentile, but not nobility. The last woman matches the description of Luna the Wild, a notorious pirate captain who has been retired some years now.

Rokgurn turns to Hamish and Crazy Hairy as they are leaving.

"Before you go you should know that my little bird recognizes the devilishly handsome man as Stanton Strake and the wild looking woman as Luna the Wild who is a retired pirate captain of some renown."

Rokgurn and Whisper keep a discrete distance from the advance greeting party. They find an elevated position to watch the party.

Kasimir: Taking leadership in PFS is essentially encouraging players to do what they want to do anyways. As long as people do something the game moves forward. :)

How long has it been since we left the ship? I am keeping track of buffs.

"Hamish, perhaps we should set up a comm link before we go? With such a fine ship, I'm certain you must have a trick or two that allows you to remain in communication?" After that, Bombshell takes Hamish by the arm and heads off to the party. "Don't wait up for us..."

Message: should be good to range of 220'. only blocked by: "Magical silence, 1 foot of stone, 1 inch of common metal (or a thin sheet of lead), or 3 feet of wood or dirt blocks the spell." So if our compatriots can find a place to roost within range, Hamish can keep them apprised.

Sorry, was late for an appointment and quick hit "post" That was Crazy Hairy talking, of course, in his mutagenic form of Bombshell...

Omrax continues to observe from his perch in a nearby tree with Rokgurn.

By the Inheritor, guide the words and deeds of my companions that they may find success in this den of iniquity.

Yuri scratches his wing with his beak, uncomfortably. He's pretty sure that no self-respecting sand dwarf should spend much time as an egret or loon or flamingo, or whatever he is.

The experience does inspire some reminiscence, however, of his long lost pet owl, Zuri. Ah, those were some fun times we had... Well, except for when you kept getting eaten... (In Yuri's younger days, when I didn't really understand Pathfinder's rules very well, he spent some time with a 1 level dip in Ranger, and an owl companion, who never had more than 4 hp. GMs took great delight in killing poor Zuri.)

Alas poor Zuri, you knew him well...
Just finished EotT with an ally with a Roc companion...now those are stout birds.

Alas poor Zuri, you knew him well...

Just finished EotT with an ally with a Roc companion...now those are stout birds.

Yep, and that's sort of what I was going for - dwarf riding a bird - but I didn't understand things like that the companion wouldn't level with me. He was fun though.

Am assuming the Seaward Gull got birdified with everyone else... (if not, let me know... am ok, either way.) He will have it stay a hawk for now, sitting on his shoulder.

Hamish glances aback over at Crazy and grins.

"Ah, you want a blow by blow of the drunken shenanigans do ye?" He says with a chortle. "Easy enough, just be careful when you say it... the spell can be easily noticed by anyone listening careful like."

He throws a suspicious look at the hawk on his shoulder, then a shifts to a conspiratorial tone.

"The lads are already disgruntled enough they get no shore leave and I told 'em to stay feathered. If they realize they're missing out on a half-decent party... Already will have to give them extra rum rations at the end of this."

The hawk, for its part, ruffles its feathers, as if agitated.

Sure, message for those who'd like it... but a DC 20 for others to overhear anything said might be a bit easy to make at this level

"Mr. Phips'll keep 'em in line." He adds.

He drops a mage armor on the eidolon and himself, in case a brew-ha-ha breaks out.

"Now where's the bar! Cap'n O'Toole needs his grog!" Once located, he heads straight to it, letting the hawk keep an eye on what's going on around him.

Gull perception: 1d20 + 20 ⇒ (11) + 20 = 31

For his part, Hamish seems more inclined to mingle and talk to the partygoers... get a feel for the room, exchange a few tales, spin a few yarns... you're not sure if he even payed attention to the actual reason for being here.

Hamish easily notices the full feasting table laid out with food and drink. (Rum, he discovers on approach.)

Well then, a mug of rum, and a leg of some innocuous seabird are a good start!

He nudges the guy next to him, nodding towards the folks on the other side of the room that seem to be getting everyone all nervous.

"What's up with that?" He asks, taking a swig. "Figured this party'd be in full swing by now, but everyone's actin' all squirrely!"

Unsure on checks and such to gather info here.
But that didn't seem like a bluff... so um.. diplo?

Diplomacy?: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (15) + 9 = 24

Stanton Strake does not look up at Hamish's question, working a soft cloth in circles at the tip of a fine leather shoe. "Well I don't rightly know, sir. Never met them before in my life." He holds the shoe up to examine the shine on the toe and nods, before moving the cloth down the side to a new spot and resuming work.

Oh... didn't mean the guy next to the boss guy... meant random_partygoer_04 who happened to be standing beside Hamish by the bar =)

The bar is basically the feasting table, and the only one next to it is Strake.

Before leaving the group, Bombshell suggests they have a panic phrase, i.e. Hamish can go ahead and say out loud, "Then we had to keelhaul him," or some such, sending it via Message as well, and the party will know to come in ready for action.

Meanwhile, at the feasting table:
"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Strake. The name's Bombshell, though I often travel around as my worse-half, a male gnome called Crazy--it's a mutagenic thing. Easy to recognize: he's the gnome with bat wings. Anyway, my friend and I are in town on both business and pleasure, and we hear you're a man who enjoys both. Any chance we could discuss opening up a line of business in the area? I'm certain it'd be quite lucrative for whomever our local agent might be."

Diplomacy to Recruit him to work with the Sczarni Exchange (i.e. Exchange Faction Journal Card Mission): 1d20 + 24 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 24 + 2 + 2 = 31

The man doesn't seem to really be paying attention at first, nodding pleasantly, but as Crazy gets into the pitch he pauses his polishing. As the gnome finishes, he finally looks up. "Those are very nice boots. Are you trading in footwear? I would love to have a new supplier." He offers his hand, smudged in polish, for a shake. "Name's Kirhed. Not sure who this Strake is, although everyone here is awful concerned that I'm not him."

"Har! Reminds me a the time the emir's guards cornered me inside that bathhouse in Katheer." Hamish interjects, waving his glass expressively. "I kept assuring them I was not the pirate captain they were looking for... certainly not the one that had so recently despoiled the Emir's harem, and made off with his favorite wife."

"Was pure coincidence that very wife happened to be naked in the hot tub beside me." He adds, with an innocent smile.

Bluff: 1d20 + 30 ⇒ (18) + 30 = 48

"These parties are s'posed to be legendary!" He gives the room a doleful gaze. "This seems more like a wake."

He wanders off to chat with someone else, in hopes of finding out what all the nervous glances are about.

'Stanton' blinks a few times before looking back to Bombshell. "He's very animated. Are you friends?"

"Travel companions would be a more accurate description, but he is growing on me. He oozes a certain kind of charm, and he looks pretty good walkin' away, if you know what I mean. SO, how did you come to be here, Kirhed? While I only just arrived in town, my understandin' is that we're standing in Strake's estate right now, and well, you do fit the description I was given of the man. I thought I'd offer my thanks for the hospitality...and seek out a business opportunity with someone as prosperous enough to own a place like this. What line of work are you in?"

ruh-roh, Shaggy.

Kirhed-Strake laughs a little nervously. "I'm not all that sure. It's so fuzzy, my mind...hazy. This definitely isn't my body! One day I'm in Absalom, the next here." He shakes his head, clearly uncomfortable talking about it. "I own a small shop in the Coins, where I make shoes. It's good, honest work and I can feel proud to have people walking the city in my shoes. Especially in the Puddles, you have to have good shoes in the Puddles. What with all the water, you see."

If we birds of a feather are able to perch within 60' of the party, Omrax-bird will try to scan the revelers for evil auras while waiting. If too far away, he will just try to listen.

That's an interesting question. As a spell-like ability, it gets around the components issue. Omrax is able to sweep the party and determine that some of the party goers have evil auras but that none of them are stronger than faint.

I know, I have never had this polymorph issue come up before. I had to look up if he actually had to do anything. But seems like 'mental only'

Omrax-bird makes mental notes of those not-evil aligned as much as those who seem to be.

Kasimir might detect as evil, if you can make it past his non-detection spell. ; )

All clerics of evil gods will radiate as evil due to their aura. The Paladin knows this as he has an aura of his own.

Yuri continues to watch the goings on with interest, and not a small amount of worry that he may not be able to change out of pigeon form when the time comes.

What's the last thing you remember before you found yourself here? And what's the first thing you remember after you arrived? And did anyone give you instructions on what to do here at the party? I'm quite familiar with Absolom, travel there often myself, and indeed, have splashed my way around the Puddles on more than one occasion. Mayhaps I could help you return home if I knew more of what happened."

Diplomacy to be reassuring: 1d20 + 24 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 24 + 2 + 2 = 40

"I don't...it's..." Kirhed stops and breathes deep before restarting. "If you can...I'd be grateful. I miss the shop. I just want to go back. I woke up here at this party. That was confusing, maybe a little frightening. Everyone called me Strake and expected me to be in charge. The terrifying part was before. I think I was in Absalom, but I don't know. There was someone all in robes, I couldn't see the face. His arm reached out to me, it had claws and eyes and...it grabbed me and everything went black." He stops with a shudder.

Hamish is going to talk to one of the other party-goers.

Mug of rum in one hand, food in the other, he saunters up to pirate lady, Luna the Wild.

"Ahoy there!" He exclaims, with a cheerful raise of his mug. "'Tis nice to see a fellow captain, manning the watch, especially one with such renown! Luna the Wild... that will make for a few tales for the lads back on the boat, even if the rest of this shindig seems a bit akilter."

"I'll be hornswaggled if I know what the fuss is about, do you?" He adds. "Last time I was here, the place was jumpin'!"

Bluff: 1d20 + 30 ⇒ (11) + 30 = 41 or Diplomacy: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (17) + 9 = 26?

The woman arches one brow as Hamish approaches, appraising him up and down as if inspecting a spare mast of questionable quality. "Aye, so 'tis a fair wind ta bring ye ta me. May tha stories be wilder than me reputation ever were!" A wide grin breaks across her face and she raises her own tankard. "A pity ye returned today. Ol' Stanton ain't himself, that's plain as day it is. Seems last night started tha same as any other, ta hear tha guests tell. Ya been around 'ere, ya know tha new people come and go as they please."

The pirate leans in conspiratorially as she continues. "So this palanquin, bigger than a longboat it was, carried by a dozen porters stops at tha party awhile. Two o' tha men, dressed up in red robes, come walking in but hardly chat with any o' tha regulars. Somewhere round tha witchin' hour, Strake ain't present an' accounted for. When he showed back up, he's as ya see 'im now."

Oh... hey, information!

"Besmara's briny booty." Hamish swears. "Red? That's gotta be that lot out in the jungle, right? If he crossed those lubbers, he got what's comin' to 'im."

Note, dunno where the assassin folks hole up here, so replace 'out in the jungle' with whatever direction could vaguely imply them... 'up on the hill'... 'over by the keep'... whathaveyou.

He pauses for a moment, frowning. "Or do red robes mean something else in these parts? Who can keep up with all the dress codes nowadays! Har!" He takes another swig of rum. "Now, a couple a world-weary scoundrels, like we, know when to keep our heads down, am I right?"

Am going to assume I can just take 10 on any bluff checks, for a 40? save me some typing all the time =)

Diplomacy?: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (18) + 9 = 27

Luna looks over Hamish with a sly eye. "Now Captain, yer tellin' me you come back in ta Strake's party expectin' red robes ta mean anythin' but the Mantis folk?" She slaps Hamish on the back with a hearty laugh. "Still, being out a' sea can leave a man lost ta land, 'tis true. Ye best keep yer head about ya, those robes mean the absolute most fanatical cultists, the Claws of Achaekek. Word tells they wield a single sawtooth sabre each, an' tha they cannot speak nor hear a word. They use a secret sign language amongst themselves an' believe they are the arms of the Mantis God himself."

You already rolled bluff and diplomacy, so for better or worse your guise is set. :P

Ah, ok... wasn't sure if it required more checks as the conversation went on! Easy enough!

"Don't come out this way too often. Usually plyin' the waters further north. Been a few years since we had shore leave here... but the party wasn't nearly so tame then! Need to get these dogs to liven up a bit. Ol' Strake isn't always here, and it went on... so see no reason it shouldn't just 'cause he's not totally here now! Har!"

"Liven up you scurvy lot!" He shouts, above the nervous conversation of the crowd. "This is a party, not a keel haulin'!"

He throws Luna an impish grin. "Need a better story to tell the crew, after all... even if I have to browbeat this lot to have some fun." He givies her a companionable nod, and heads out into the crowd once more!

Once out of earshot of Luna and other suspicious looking types, he will whisper what he learned to those listening in at home... or at least up in the trees.

ie: relay the info via the message spell

He then sets his eyes on the pair of upper-crust ladies... such a prize deserving of his attention!

"Ladies! You look like you could use a bit of roguish company!" He grabs his fancy plumed bicorne in hand, and sweeps it in front of him in an attempt at a gallant bow. "Captain Hamish Carmody O'Toole. And who might you two lovely lasses be?"

"Good morning, Captain." The green tinge of the woman's hair is more pronounced in the sunlight. "I am Jaxira Darlamir, curator of the Songbird Preserve. And this is Origent Gamaron, director of the Nymphaleum."

"Charmed, of course." Origent greets Hamish with a flourish of an opera fan. "A pity the party is not to your liking. At the very least the drink ought to be consolation."

Perception: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (7) + 16 = 23

Yuri continues to watch the goings on with an avian eye. It's a pity to see all the good grog wantin' a drinker... I wonder if anyone would notice a pelican perched on the punch bowl...?

Perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 1 = 12

Knowledge (local), Songbird Preserve: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8
Knowledge (local), Nymphaleum: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (1) + 5 = 6

Hamish neither hears the woman's groan as he approaches, nor has any idea what either of the two places they appear to run are, but he doesn't let that stop him from jumping into the fray!

"Songbirds? As in actual birds, that sing?" He exclaims, as Jaxira mentions the place she works. "I met a fish that sang once... and a sword... and not one, but two rocks (completely unrelated)." He glances at the Seaward Gull, still in the form of a hawk, clinging unhappily to his shoulder. "Why I've a bird right her... though whether Seagull can sing or not, I'm not sure."

Yes, the Seaward Gull's pretend hawk name will be Seagull =)

"And the Nymphaleum?" He continues, sending his best charming smile at Origent. "I have not heard of that establishment... though it brings to mind all sorts of things."

"As the only two here who seem to be enjoying themselves, you have officially drawn my interest!" He adds. "That some other gentleman has not deigned to provide you company is a crime of its own! Luckily, I am no gentleman, and have seen more of the world than all of those sorry lot combined, no doubt!"

Diplomacy?: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (14) + 9 = 23

The outsider, disguised as a ship, pretending to be a bird, does its best to look interesting, and help make Hamish seem more interesting by association.

Gull diplomacy aid another: 1d20 ⇒ 18

Unsure what skills to use on these chats... is it the same for all of them, or varies? And how do we know? Hopefully something will provide a clue in the conversation. =)

Hell, Hamish isn't even sure why he's here... past free rum and food!

"Well, not precisely the focus of my work, but the parks do see hawks from time to time." Jaxira studies Seagull as she speaks. "Far too much of the city is given over to the militant religious. My work involves dedicating at least some of the areas to pleasant vistas."

"Perhaps you can appreciate the need for proper culture in a grim society, sir?" Origent hides behind her fan, eyes narrowly slightly. "The Nymphaleum strives to attract the best operatic performers, so it pains me to learn you have not heard of it spoken in the same breath as the Closoi in Karcau or the House of the Immortal Son in Oppara. Are you familiar with such establishments, good captain?"

There are different skills that are more effective than others, yes. Hamish gets the feeling he may be under appraisal for his intellectual or artistic talents. ;)

Ooo... good names! Actual places? Or did you make them up. =)

If the Seaward Gull needs to make a disguise check to withstand scrutiny by a bird expert, it's at a +20 normally... plus whatever bonus the animal shapes spell gives

"Culture? Why there are places that say the name o' Captain O'Toole with reverence." He exclaims, with an exaggerated flourish. "Not for my plaintive song, mind ye. The only tunes I be listenin' too regular, be the flow of the wind in me sails, and the splash o' the waves 'neath me hull."

He grins at Jaxira. "There be few vistas more pleasant than those on the open sea."

"Except possibly you two lasses." He adds, with bravado.

Turning back to Origent, his grin widens. "Only time I was ever in Kracau, I was fleein' a hoard of demon-tainted barbarians from the edges of the Worldwound." He tells her. "But the opera house in Oppara... I once performed on stage there in front of a packed house, and Prince Stavian III himself."

He quickly holds up his hands. "Now now, I know what you be thinkin'... but 'tis a much longer tale o' skullduggery and the fickle hand of Fate... for which I will need suitable libations!" He makes a quick trip to the refreshment table to refill his mug, and grabs a refill for the ladies as well while he's there.

Once he returns, he presents the drinks with a flourish, then continues. "Now, where were we? Oh yes, my infamous stint at the House of the Immortal Son."

"Was many years agone. The whole city was celebratin' ol' Three's bajilionth birthday, and me and the lads had just jiggered one o' the wagons holdin' some of the birthday gifts."

He stops, a pained look on his face. "I mean, who needs a pink rabbit, or a giant crystal peacock. Was our civil duty! Har." He laughs heartily, then continues. "'Course, it all went sideways, when Poxy Pete forgot ta bring the black powder and I had to improvise. Next thing ya know, the militia was on our backs, and we were makin' a run for it, giant peacocks and bunnies in tow."

He stops suddenly, a thoughtful look on his face. "Strange how all the most interestin' tales start, or end, with someone running."

He shakes his head, laughing, then continues. "Anyway, 'tis the captain's job to go down with the ship, so I led those scurvy rozzers off, whilst the lads made their way back to the ship with the booty." He makes sure to properly play up his noble sacrifice.

"Next thing ya know, I'm duckin' through a door and am backstage in the Opera House, in the midst of some big performance. Guards were closin' fast on my stern, so I relieved some poor sot a his costume for a disguise... some poofy outfit with tassles and feathers... and tried to find another way out. Next thing I know, I'm stumbling out on stage, middle of the performance... and who's sitting in some fancy box watching, but ol' number Three himself. 'Twas Fate herself laughin' on high."

"So, there I be, dressed like some fool dandy, standin' in front of hundreds of toffers and the Grand Prince, when suddenly the whole place goes quiet, and everyone starts lookin' at me." He shrugs, suppressing a grin. "A life breathin' the salty sea air ain't lead to dulcet tones, I remind ya... so if they was expectin' a song, they were out of luck. Those actors though, start whisperin' lines at me, like I'd just forgot what to say. Seemed Lady Luck had tossed me a line, and I had stepped into a normal speakin' job... So I did just that, and started to talkin'!"

He laughs, taking a big swig of rum. "Couldn't tell ya what I said, when all's said and done. Something with lots of dramatic pauses, a touch a sultry, and a heap o' imminent betrayals, anyway. The fools on stage, looked like they was all gonna explode... but the folks in the seats, they didn't know no better, and we're eatin' it up. All's the while, I'm edgin' across the stage, to starboard." He takes a few steps sideways, with exaggerated motions, as if mimicking his part.

"Finally, one of those guinea fowl grows a pair, and they push me off the far side, the rest trying to salvage whatever story I'd interrupted." He shrugs again, and drinks some more rum. "From there, was a quick duck out an exit, and out into the streets, the rozzers off the track!"

"Heard later that performance was the talk of the town, the Grand Prince himself giving them a standing ovation." He pauses for a moment, before adding. "To this day, I still don't know what the bloody play was supposed to be about, though."

He finishes with one last grin, and a slight bow.

Take 10 on the bluff, for a 40

And Perform (oratory): 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (13) + 12 = 25 for the story! (only artsy skill he has! =))

As Hamish launches into his tale, Madam Garimon titters behinds her fan while the Lady Darlamir at least pays polite attention, offering a smile at the flattery. The pair whisper to each other as the captain fetches refreshment, Jaxira reaching a hand out to steady herself on her friend.

As he mentions Prince Stavian and builds the story of blundering misfortune they exchange glances, offering the appropriate gasps at each further revelation. Origent tries to contain her laughter behind her fan, nearly spilling her drink from the effort. As Hamish bows at the end she snaps the fan closed with a flick as Jaxira offers applause.

"My dear captain, you are quite the scoundrel." the mistress of the preserves opines. "I don't know that I should believe your epic, but it is by far the most interesting story I have heard in weeks."

Origent pokes Hamish in the chest with her fan, a little left of center. "I hardly think you belong here at the party, for you should certainly be offering up your comedy on stage." she confides, a much more genuine smile on her unhidden face.

"I, for one, would certainly attend such a performance." Jaxira agrees with a nod. "Does your business in town perhaps accommodate such an engagement?"

*flies close enough to overhear*

"Comedy?!" Hamish exclaims in mock outrage. "Why naught but a true telling of events, as Besmara is my witness."

"Alas, this old salt has retired from the performing ways. Go out on top, as they say. Though private shows is oft available, upon request." He gives the lady's an inviting grin.

"But I didn't put to port on business. Me ship needed a few repairs after a close turn 'round the Eye. This was s'posed ta be a night of fun and revelry..." He adds, sweeping his hand to encompass the party around them. "Instead there be naught but this dreary lot... present company excepted."

"Everyone mutterin' 'bout some mantis bludgers, carried in, in some giant fancy box, who left the host all groggy, and three sheets to the wind." He shakes his head slightly. "Would think that a typical moonday night... but instead everyone's all thrown."

Hoping maybe the ladies know where these Claw guys might have come from? Just avoiding asking outright... as he's supposed to be on the down low! =)

Both of the ladies' mirth sobers quickly. "Indeed captain, it is a serious concern." Jaxira takes a deep draught of her rum.

"I remember that thing. It gave me the chills." Origent interjects in the pause. "Not everyone knows, but I've heard the rumors. It is said to belong to the Master of the Pagoda, who arrived years ago to worship the Mantis God." She shivers a little despite the warm sun. "I have never seen him, but word is he's not even human. A terrible creature, all covered in staring eyes."

Bombshell heads over to the fella with the eyepatch. "I must say, I expected a more lively event than this. Seems more like a Chelish wake than a party--except for my associate, Hamish. He is a spectacle all unto himself--dinner and a show, wherever we go. What brings you here? Revelry, or opportunity? I'm a fan of both."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 24 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 24 + 2 + 2 = 32
Kn-Local: 1d20 + 24 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 24 + 2 + 2 = 43

"Work." The response is short, to the point, and final. He stares hard at Bombshell. "Complaints can be registered to the master, if you like."

Near as Crazy can tell, he's part of the staff, but no one famous.

Egads! Hamish can't be the pooper of parties! That just won't do!

"Sevenfinger's ghost!" Hamish exclaims, as Origent describes this Master of the Pagoda, and their moods start to turn sour. "I've have never heard of such a horror... two lasses suddenly knocked from their revelry? What sort of scurvy cad would do such a thing!?"

He grins, taking a swig of rum. "My apologies, lasses. This shindig does not need more such baggage, weighin' down the gunwales."

"On yer feet, you blaggards!" He shouts to the partygoers. " A toast I say! To all what sings! Be they birds in the sky, divas on a stage, or the wind blowin' nor'east across the bow!"

He gives Jaxira and Origent a bow, and a jaunty wink, then finishes off his rum in one big gulp. He then glances around, looking to see if the party has any musicians slackin' on the job, and tries to get them to get a little livelier, so he can ask one of the ladies to dance... and give the shindig a much needed shot in the arm.

I think I've about run myself out of things to ask... we just need to find this Pagoda, and we're off to the races!
So we'll pass the baton off to the crazy gnome.

You did say low key, right? =) Mission accomplished!

GM, based on the (admittedly limited information) on the Master of the Pagoda's description and perhaps the memory drain thing on Strake, is there a knowledge check that might tell us what it might be, or how the brain swap was accomplished?

Rokgurn listens with interest at the conversations from a nearby tree.
He chirps back and forth very quietly with Whisper trying to unravel some of the mysteries of the conversations below.

Rokgurn's hearing Perception is 38 with a take 10. To understand the details of whispered speech (which this is not) is a 15. Even with a -6 for range penalties he easily makes it.

Whisper quietly chirps back the answers to his master in an attempt to lecture him. Whisper is slightly miffed that Rokgurn has reclaimed the ring of Eloquence thus depriving him the opportunity to educate the entire party.

Now to get to some answers if we can with some skill rolls.
1) Would a KS:Arcana or Heal check help to determine the nature of Stanton's condition and more importantly how to reverse it? Would curative magic (like Heal or Restoration help)?
2)The nature and current home base of the Claws of Achaekek? Would this be KS-Religion or KS-Local?
3)Information about the Master of Pagoda. Would this be KS-Religion or KS-Planes?

"So whom do you work for? Are you at liberty to pursue other avenues of income? I'm new to town and it'd certainly be helpful to get the inside information from someone in the know. I'd certainly be willing to make it worth your time..."

The man says nothing for a moment, sliding his one good eye to 'Stanton' at the feasting table. "And how are you going to make it worth my time?"

More info to come when I have more time today.