Lelzeshin pauses. He speaks carefully. Are you asking me to help you break into the vault? Please, it is a serious matter. Do not broach such a topic even in jest!
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Keats <giggles> as he views the sketches of the outfit being made to his directions, though he refuses to show the others.
“I don’t want to spoil the surprise.”
Having acquired a delicate bell from somewhere, he raises the item from his vanity and ♪ tinkles ♪ until a servant appears. “I’ll want the closest shave possible, and my toes and fingers painted scarlet, thank-you.”
“Tell the tailor I do NOT approve of the waist-trainer. I mean, what is he implying? And besides if I decide to wear my armor over the top, the effect will be completely lost.”
The party pro gives a dismissive wave. “Now off with you, darling! My friends and I have things we need to discuss.”
”I’ll break into the vault. I love a good challenge.”
“It seems to me the King of Roses is a bit of a dick.”
Keats kicks off his sandals as he sits with the others. “His behavior mirrors that of Prince Stavian’s, in the abominable treatment his own daughter, our beloved Princess Eutropia. Poor Selmius appears to have cast himself as the willing hero, who didn’t quite make it to the final scene.”
“Tango Lysander/Delta Romeo, my friends. I agree with Packet and vote to give Webhekiz IV’s nut a jolly good cracking.”
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Friend Keats! Please be respectful of our people and our sovereign! Such language!
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Varret slaps his forehead and sighs at Keats' latest outburst. Do you know nothing of subtlety or tact? "Please forgive our friend. It seems" he says, shooting a glance at the barefoot boor next to him "that he may have enjoyed himself a bit too much this evening. I'm sure he meant no offense." That last is said through gritted teeth as he looks once more at the nearby Keats.
Lelzeshin moves smoothly past the gaffe, smiling as if nothing occurred. You must be so tired after your adventure in the jungle, the socializing, and the alcohol. It is me who should beg forgiveness — like winter, I've stayed overlong. It is simply rude of me to be here keeping you up, chatting the night away about forgotten Bhopanese history like some young scholar setting out to change the world! I humbly apologize.
He stands and bows low. I am here to help in whatever way I can. You need only make a request, and I will help you.
With that, Lelzeshin departs. You are free to discuss the situation in all candor, including whether you truly trust Lelzeshin.
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Pip's head is in her hands. "I'm an attorney. I swore an oath to uphold the law, and to treat my clients fairly. Now I find myself with a conundrum. What do I do?"
Usually, Pip has such a magnetic presence it's easy to forget just how small she is. She just fills the space around her. But now it looks like she's shrunk in on herself. Taking a deep breath, she speaks a little louder.
"I feel like the parts of our mission are in conflict. We're supposed to find out the truth about Selmius, but we're also supposed to repair our relations with the Bhopanese. Selmius got into trouble for going into that vault. The Bhopanese are going out of their way to give us a second chance to prove that our Society isn't a bunch of looters, and what are we doing? We're going straight back into that vault. We're repeating history, and maybe even risking a war where this society will never trust the Pathfinders again."
Pip wraps her garment tightly around herself. "I know there are times to break the law... It's fitting if the law is fundamentally unjust. And I know that in a way, Selmius is my client. He was drawn into that vault, just like we are now. He was caught and made a scapegoat, and paid the price. It's our job to prove his innocence. But to do that by breaking into the vault and repeating his mistakes? It seems wrong. Every instinct of mine is shouting that this is wrong...."
She looks to Packet and Keats. "Can you help me figure out why this is a good idea? What am I missing?"
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Gurmire looks at Pip, concerned. “You going be alright Pip?”
Then looking to Keats, he says “Get Bailiff please? That seems cheer her up when that ...” he pauses as if realizing he was about to say the wrong thing. “Bailiff good for cheering her up.”
He turns to address the whole group then.
“Maybe I being silly, but why we not ask King for answers? Tell him it not sufficient just know that big plant eat Selmeus. Need be able show that it a just punishment so rest of Pathfinder Society recognize the error of Selmius ways. Need know what he trying to steal and anything else king can tell of what really happened.”
“Need to show justice in what happened.”
“The whole court very concerned how others see them. Should be way we can use that to get our answers.”
Shaking his finger he then changes the subject. “I think they hiding something. Weird tree that talk in jungle, Dryad that go crazy. Undead carriages. They make city look so pretty, but it seem something being hid.”
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She looks to Packet and Keats. "Can you help me figure out why this is a good idea? What am I missing?"
“I don’t know that I am right, my dear.”
Keats stretches in his chair and arches his back. “Whatsizname, the king’s spy said the clue is in the vault. So logic says we should go in and find it.”
“Bravo Tybalt Whiskey, I stand by what I said about the Bhophan king. If anything, I thought my language restrained. But I accept we all have different perspectives and I am nothing if not adaptable.”
Keats screws up his eyes and searches his companions’ faces. “Surely you all noticed the king’s behavior to us, in comparison to that of his stewards?”
Then he shrugs and makes a thin smile. “Though I concede, my natural suspicion of authority may be coloring my perspective.”
“Anyway, Pip.” The actor crosses his legs and places his hands in his laps. “I am certain this is supposed to be a moral dilemma. The key being that if whatever action we decide to take turns out to be wrong, we adapt and make the best of things.”
“Perfect plans and perfect performers are hardly the norm, right? What is important is that we stick together and mutually support each other.”
“Now, if there’s another way to achieve our goal, I’m all for discussing it.” :)
☺
Bailiff wags his tail and looks at the quiet Zarindlara and Varret, who've been quiet for several minutes, wondering what they're thinking…
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"Oh Pip, I didn't mean to cause you a moral dilemma. I'm just saying I'll do it if we want to break in. Ain't no thing but a chicken wing, if you ask me. And I've broken into many a chicken wing. And leg. And thigh."
"Seems we need to know what this treasure is that Selmius was so intent on finding. If we investigate whatever it was that he was researching, we might be able to find out on our own what the treasure is."
"But, that's certainly not without it's risks too, as any experienced detective will tell you. Some secrets don't like to uncovered. And in the end, our research might just lead us to believe, as it did Selmius, that we need to break into the vault anyway. But at least by then we'll have more context for doing so."
"Whatever we decide, I'm here to explore, report, and cooperate."
"Now, is it time for midnight snack yet?"
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Varret sits in quiet contemplation while his allies discuss. Eventually, as a lull in conversation leaves the room quiet but for the swishing of Bailiff's wagging tail as he tries his doggy best to cheer up Pip, the Shoanti man breaks his silence. "Not long ago, relations between the Pathfinder Society and my people were nearly shattered for good when a Pathfinder agent broke in to a place he should not have, severely damaging a site we hold dear. Only some very tense diplomatic negotiations, coupled with active and open work to repair the damage and prove the Society's commitment to exploring the right way saved the relationship. Its also what convinced me to join the Society." He looks around the room, taking stock of everyone's faces. "While I will abide by the decisions of this group and do my part in whatever we decide, you should all ask yourselves the same questions I have been sitting here contemplating: do we want to repeat that ugly history here? Do we" gesturing to the assembled Pathfinder "want to be the cause of it?"
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Seeing Pip depressed, Bailiff runs to his pack, sticks his nose through the open flap, and drags out his favorite ball, dropping the soggy ball in Pip's lap.
"Woof!" he says, wagging his tail.
Here's the ball!
When that doesn't work, he keeps coming back and dropping yet more objects in Pip's lap: his brush, his favorite chew toy, his leash...
You sleep well after settling a difficult decision. In fact, you sleep in — rarely do Pathfinders get such luxury on their missions! Your outfits are to be delivered in the early afternoon.
You breakfast with Lelzeshin in a large and elegant dining room adjoining the main suite. Here is spread a lavish assortment of teas, coffee, cakes, cheeses, fresh-baked breads, and savory fried plants. Lelzeshin maintains a smile throughout the breakfast but an air of expectancy hangs over the meal. Themes of liberation, anticipation, open-mindedness, and heroism run prevalently though his seasonal metaphors. By the end of the meal, the perceptive barrister Pip feels a sense of intense disappointment — and also determination — radiating from the steward. Lelzeshin's smile remains, as warm as ever but the eyes behind the peacock-feather mask no longer twinkle with the friendliness of before.
You hear a clamor in the adjoining hallway — the king — His Majesty King Webhekiz, Fourth of His Name, Chosen Sovereign of Bhopan by the Grace of the Four Seasons — is gallivanting past with his entourage of courtiers, discussing the drinks menu for tonight's Masquerade of Seasons. A servant with a broom follows at a discreet distance, sweeping up the powder left behind by the sovereign's royal wig. You could catch up if you like, and have a word with the king.
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As her lap fills with soggy doggy items, Pip suddenly laughs. It's so absurd, it's funny. She pets Bailiff, and says, "Who's a good dog? You are!"
Then she turns to the others. "Alright, paths forward from here. So... we've decided that we're not violating our host's trust by invading their vault. I also don't want to violate Lelzeshin's trust by going to the King. The King is going to want to know, 'Who told you to go to the Vault?' Even if we don't hang Lelzeshin out to dry, who have we really interacted with but him? We're risking him coming under severe suspicion. They execute traitors here, and from what I read of him, the guy doesn't deserve that. He's a patriot who was just trying to help us."
Pip pets Bailiff. "We've only been here a day. We're not on time clock. Let's see if we can earn a little goodwill from the King during the masquerade, and then try to ask for access to the vault. Does that sound like a plan?"
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During breakfast with Lelzeshin, Pip picks some of the choicest items and puts them on the Steward's plate. "Heroism shifts according to time and season. Sometimes Heroism is putting friendship foremost. Our friendship with the you, and the Bhopanese people is in its Spring. We don't want to force it into a frigid Autumn by acting too soon. You were kind, Lelzeshin, and valiant, to offer to put yourself at risk for our investigation."
Pip leans forward. "Here's one way to help us. Help us prepare for tonight's masquerade. What can we do to excel and foster goodwill during the festivities?"
Our friendship with you, and the Bhopanese people is in its Spring.
Lelzeshin frowns. Autumn must steal the gold and rubies from the trees, and feed them to the earth. Else the forest dies.
We don't want to force it into a frigid Autumn by acting too soon.
Spring thaws the bones of all who refuse to listen when the cold winds begin blowing.
What can we do to excel and foster goodwill during the festivities?
You might do well to participate and perform well in the pre-masquerade festivities. They will take place in the garden maze. We Bhopanese enjoy some exquisite delights, but they take dexterity and wisdom to truly appreciate. If you can prove yourselves to the others, you may win kindness during the dance itself. Unfortunately, I am not sure what His Majesty has planned specifically, as I have been attending to, and attempting to educate and instruct, you. He smiles and sips his herbal tea.
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Gurmire is following the conversation over breakfast as best he can when he sees the king go past. He suddenly jumps up and goes running after him.
What was the magic words...think I had them?
When he thinks he is close enough to be heard, he calls out “Your Majesty King Webhekiz, Fourth His Name, Chosen Sovereign Bhopan by Grace Four Seasons do you have time for two things?”
Think I got all the important words there!
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Pip follows Gurmire out, and grabs the goblin by the hand, and sweeps him, with her, into a low bow.
"Your Majesty King Webhekiz, Fourth of His Name, Chosen Sovereign of Bhopan by the Grace of the Four Seasons, my enthusiastic companion, Gurmire and I were wondering if we could share with you some entertainments, since you and your court have been so gracious to us. It would be our honor if you would allow us mere guests to perform for you. Perhaps before the events of the Masquerade this afternoon, so as not to interfere with all the delights therein?"
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Packet adds another sugar cube into his tea.
”I always take two sugars, and lots of milk.” He takes a sip and smiles. ”Now that’s a proper cup.”
”Lelzeshin, if we wanted to do more research on Selmeus’s time here, follow his footsteps a bit, look into what he was researching, where do you suppose we would start?”
King Webhekiz pauses and frowns at Gurmire. When Pip gives the greeting with all its words sweeps Gurmire into a bow, some of the courtiers with the King snicker at what turns out to be a somewhat graceless bow.
But the King smiles. Fall leaves tumble, children at play among the solemn towers. He wanders off after a very short pause for your retort.
A party-planner approaches. We will give you a room in the maze before the Masquerade. You may perform one short scene from this play. If His Majesty is pleased, perhaps you will be allowed to perform the show in its entirety in the coming days. Like so many ultra-wealthy nobles, it seems that the King's own handlers are very good at inferring exactly what he wants with almost preternatural sense.
You get the feeling the Bhopanese doubt the quality of your skills — that other cultures cannot produce art at the same level. This is reminiscent of Lelzeshin's warnings about xenophobia. Perhaps you can prove them wrong and perform the rest of the play or archery contest tomorrow, but it may be an uphill battle!
----
Lelzeshin nods at Packet. The records I spoke of are not accessible to outsiders. Unfortunately, I believe all of your mundane means of research are exhausted on Foster. If only your group possessed the ability to follow extraordinary footsteps… but alas. I suggest you simply enjoy the party tonight.
Later that afternoon your costumes arrive. They magically fit over your gear and armor, as the Bhopanese aren't sure whether you, as warrior-diplomats, prefer to come to a party equipped.
Lelzeshin looks over your costumes to ensure there are no cultural missteps and for you to explain any special meaning they have to you. He will include this in his report to the king.
After a luxurious early dinner it's time to get ready for the ball. Outside, the hedge maze is alight with fantastical colors; and beyond is the plaza of the grand dance, with levels ascending hundreds of feet into the air…
Lelzeshin then explains that the Masquerade of Seasons begins with several games and activities, followed by the main event: the Grand Dance. You are to perform your play inside a small courtyard and then will be released to participate in the games and activities.
It's then time to go to the fey masquerade!
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Gurmire replies "Spring opens new possibilities for all."
He then impatiently waits as somebody talks about some play he didn't realize he was in. Should be fun, but that wasn't what he had asked about.
----
Once back with Lelzeshin he asks "Who should I tell that garden lanterns last night fire hazard? Hung too close trees. His majesty said worried about fire, but guess that something he want fixed without words."
When asked about cultural reasons for costume, Gurmire tells of how humans called Varisians always wear bright colors and jangly bracelets. He explains Varisians as a different tribe of humans than others. There are lots of them and the Shoanti in Magnimar where he comes from. "They fun humans, enjoy parties and dancing and other things. Thought work better here than goblin party." He isn't inclined towards discussing what goblin culture thinks makes an excellent party.
He does ask Pip and Lelzeshin about what he did wrong in the hallway, other than the awkwardness of the bow. "Thought said all important words, but not smile like when Zarindlara talk."
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Zarindlara looks glamorous in her elven forest-inspired ensemble, the wild flowers in her hair accenting her violet eyes. When asked, she puts on a demonstration of elven archery. She asks someone to place an apple on a pedestal or post.
She grazes it, knocking it off the pedestal sideways, but not piercing it as she had hoped. She still gives the crowd a big smile and a bow.
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Packet stands casually with one hand in a pocket, the other holding his pipe. Under a short, black cape trimmed in silver thread, he wears a brown wool suit with a dark green vest, and a deep orange cravat held with a silver pin. His hair is freshly cut and styled, his muttonchops trimmed and edged. His feet are bare, his toe nails clean and polished. He feels conspicuous, but also like a million gold pieces.
When asked, he confesses that he's never enjoyed such a grand dinner before. His toes drum the floor in pleasure.
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Varret walks across the room, observing the long robe or grey-blue fabric that seems to recede behind him as he moves, a wave retreating from the shore only to crash forward once again when he stops. The look of the sea is completed by the dense garland of small white flowers around his neck, the foam capping the surf below.
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Gurmire is a bundle of energy wrapped up in bright colors and metal bracelets. He jingles as he moves, the bracelets ringing as they hit each other. The clothes are bright floral colors with striped patterns. He has a long scarf that he tries to twirl. His feet are covered with whatever the tailors decided would work well with the rest of the outfit. He gets really excited when the belt wraps itself around his waist like a vine.
He would definitely need to explain to a Varisian how he thinks his costume is in the style of their clothing.
His eyes are bright with excitement and his smile is wide in anticipation of what will happen tonight.
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Pip dyes Bailiff's fur white, and then dresses him in a frothy white vest covered in silver snowflakes and trailing silver ribbons. She herself wears a sleeveless gown of green, this one with golden fruits and suns embroidered all over it. Each of the plants shown is one that her own family grew in their vegetable garden in Absalom; each design brings memories of family meals and picnics and summer gatherings.
She is so excited by everything's that happening.
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Once outfitted Keats sneaks up on Gurmire and taps him on the shoulder.
“It is I! DOOM BOY!”
♫ Raising jazz hands in the air and calling in a high pitched spooky voice: ♫
Keats has squeeeezed himself into a tight, spidersilk catsuit, which while ab/pec-hugging reveals little skin. His cape, and high-heeled boots are matching black leather, and he has had a servant brush out his dark ringlets for hours before tying back his thick mane in a lustrous ponytail.
His breastplate, longsword and shield have all been dipped in a bath of molten gold, which when applied to their strong, jet background …
“Give the impression of Sarenrae’s golden face rising from the cold horizon, heralding Spring’s return from the dark, frozen days of Winter.”
Two items seem curiously amiss on Keats’ outfit. First is a pair of furry, silver ‘head-band’ ears. “To honor the Bhophans, I present my own spirit animal – the Squox!”
“I was introduced to this critter by some South Arcadian Islanders on a private demiplane in Katapesh called Ayahuasca.”
The second is a leather mask of scarlet, which doesn’t quite match the outfit.
“Lord Lelzeshin, in contrast to Selmius Foster, I wear this outfit to honor a contemporary Pathfinder Hero, named Doom Girl.”
“Among her many admirable traits, Doom Girl is kind, selfless, persuasive, honest, hard-working, diplomatic, evangelical, efficient, courageous and caring.”
“It is an honor to be admitted to a world-spanning organization that includes such inspirational people.”
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Is he really trying to sneak in that? Think I will pretend not to see him. I don’t want to wreck his fun, especially since humans don’t tend to knife people when playing tricks.
Gurmire gives a loud yelp of surprise as Doom Boy jumps out at him. Fanning himself, he says “Wow! You really scared me there!”
Doom Girl? Never heard of her.
Looking up at Keats, he says “I like that you include burning lady in it.”
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Arise, fair Sarenrae, and kill the envious Groetus,
Who is already sick and pale with grief,
That thou, her maid, art far more fair than One who gets their jollies awaiting the end-times.
🎭
“Hard to spot the changes I know, Gurmy. But it is possible for some of us to improve upon the works of the Bard.”
Keats takes a bow. “I’m glad you liked my nod to the Dawnflower.”
“Have you ever mentioned the honorific ‘burning lady’ to an Imam of the Faith? I’d love to be a firefly on the wall if you did.”
The actor’s face adopts a look of concern. “I hope I didn’t frighten you too much. Humans says cats have nine lives. I should think goblins would need more.”
“Is there a similar saying in Goblin?”
Well done, Pathifnders. I'm sure these costumes will go over well at the Masquerade of Seasons. I am sure no one will soon forget Doom Boy either, as he is rather loud. Perhaps "Boom Boy" is a more fitting sobriquet.
You're led into the mazelike gardens of the masquerade and through sinuous passages of leaves, surrounded by mysterious masked individuals. Soon, you are turned aside from the crowd and led into a green room (literally green), behind the stage that's set up for your performance.
In the next room is a low stage and a gathering-area full of costumed Bhopanese drinking sweet liquors, softly murmuring as they waif for the show to begin. One of the masked people may be the king himself! However, you don't have much time to really take in the scenery or costuming yet, nervous as you are about the show. A scene from Rise of the Goblin Guild with some improv archery… you wonder how King Zusgut would eel about the additions that have been demanded by his peer, King Webhekiz.
Garden Theater + Improv Archery = ??
Gurmire
BOOM Boy
Packet
Pip
Varret
Zarindlara
Bailiff gets excited for the play, and the ribbons, and the cheering audience. He barks and wags his tail when Pip tells him, and looks out at the crowd.
"WOOOF!"
I am such a good dog!
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Pip moves everyone through their parts, allowing Keats / Doom Boy to pose and frolic in the role of Lord Ulthun!
Then when the time comes for the singing of the song, Pip in the role of Siatha sings:
♫ To everything (turn, turn, turn)
There is a season (turn, turn, turn)
And a time to every purpose, within Bhopan
A time to doubt, a time to trust
A time for regrets, a time to heal
A time for shock, and time to adjust
A time to close, and time to reveal
To everything (turn, turn, turn)
There is a season (turn, turn, turn)
And a time to every purpose, within Bhopan
A time for spring, fresh and full of hope
A time for summer, the warmth of wings
A time for fall, to learn and to cope
A time for winter, and all that winter brings
To everything (turn, turn, turn)
There is a season (turn, turn, turn)
And a time to every purpose, within Bhopan
A time to hide, and a time to seek
A time for mistakes, and the righting of wrongs
A time to be strong, and a time to be meek
A time to be quiet, and a time for songs
To everything (turn, turn, turn)
There is a season (turn, turn, turn)
And a time to every purpose, within Bhopan
A time to be still, a time to dance
A time to spurn, a time for friends
A time seek answers or leave things to chance
A time to discover, and time to make amends ♫
Then it is back to the others. The nobility of King Zusgut, the cleverness of Crimsi, the fierce chasing of Ulthun by the ghost, the call to the heroism.
Once the rings out, Pip concludes:
"And so sworn enemies made amends
Where once stood rivals now stand friends."
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“Pip, how does Bailiff know his cues?” is Keats’ curious aside as he waits in the wings.
🎭
… Enter a ghostly undead who now chases a shrieking Keats as Lord Ulthun of Lastwall.
The Eternal Rose hath given me one face, yet I make myself another!
To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis Watcher-Lordlier in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous courtly dilemmas,
Or to take arms against a forest of doubles!
Keats turns and fires a ‘suction-cup’ arrow at the pursuing ghost.
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Hopping across the stage, Gurmire delivers his favorite line that should have always been in the play. "We know how to fight undead longshanks! WITH FIRE!"
It would have been much more impressive if he hadn't stepped on his scarf and fell flat on his face. He bounces right back up, but no one believes it was a prat-fall.
Given the short notice and pressure, the show doesn't go quite as well as you hoped. Pip and Bailiff (as Siathorn and Mitzli, respectively) are definitely the show-stealers. The masked nobles clap politely for a short time and shuffle out, eager to begin the other festivities. You will have to find out what the king thinks later on.
★★★★★★
The maze takes a circuitous path to the main dance floor, making the acres-large space seem much larger than it really is. You move through passages whose leaves are lighted in rainbow hues, past strange flower-gardens that weave subtle fragrances through the cool air, among fanciful sculpture-gardens made from driftwood and vine, across graceful stone footbridges that span pools full of bioluminescent fish, and more.
The costumes of the Bhopanese are just as extraordinary as you dreamed: a gull-faced woman's face seems to skim above a delicate coral reef made of bright funguses (she nods appreciatively at Varret's costume), a monarch butterfly-man glides above the crowd dusting them with glitter, a mysterious couple in sinister alabaster masks and pale robes watch from within a garden of white marble obelisks, a grinning black caiman wearing a tophat sits in a shadowy alcove with a wineglass (he's talking to a jaguar) — the costumes range from the bizarre to the fanciful, from the luxurious to the terrible.
You even glimpse a troupe of six younger nobles costumed as grotesque versions of you.
You turn a corner and happen across a group gathered around barrel-sized pitcher plants. On a table next to these plants is a collection of meats and vegetables on kebabs. There is also a collection of very sharp, very small knives laid out.
You watch an elegant person in spider-silk cape (complete with thousands trapped fireflies that glow like a galaxy), take a kebab and a knife. They prick their index finger with the knife and drip blood onto the pitcher-plant, which snaps opens hungrily. The person quickly dips the kebab inside the plant for a few seconds before pulling it out. It smells delicious. The plant snaps shut.
The acid in the plant must marinate the kabob — a kind of ceviche.
The group notices you, and gestures to the table. You may attempt to cook a kabob by offering your blood (or someone else's) to the plant and then making a Cooking Lore check or a Perception check to know just when the kabob is cooked perfectly.
The guests watch you closely.
Pitcher-Plant Ceviche!
Gurmire
BOOM Boy
Packet
Pip
Varret
Zarindlara