[AP] Iron Gods by GM Rutseg

Game Master Balacertar

Rhoreen follows along, pleased that Yambul has been able to make friends so quickly. She is even more pleased when her friend, Zzvkgrogk, shows up again at some point, almost out of thin air.

"How long have you selling tech? Where do you acquire it?" Rhor asks Yambul's new drinking buddy.

Ruha takes her ease at the end of the booth. She's happy to let Yambul take the lead in charming the Baron, but she answers his most immediate question "Not merchants or stragglers, no. Explorers is probably most accurate. We've seen quite the large number of Androffan ruins and accumulated plenty of technology that we'd like to see not end up in League hands."

She otherwise stays quiet, watching Drund to see if he's trying to trick the group in some fashion.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 24 ⇒ (1) + 24 = 25

Zzvkgrogk retreats to a portion of the market to discretely rematerialize. He re-strides up to the pagoda.

"Glad you made it, Rũha! For a minute there it looked like you were a real goner!"

~~

"”Do we know where she is? She’s probably getting help. We should scoot.”

"The Shade Dimension Door'd. It could be around the corner -- albeit with two fewer bodyguards." He glances at the shattered Garundi at their feet. "Perhaps not likely."

He follows the others to the pub, echoing Rhoreen and Rūha’s queries.

”So you are a Baron, huh? Are you in the habit of selling powerful items to nanite infested undead? Where did that Shade come from? Isn't it a Leaguer? It would not be a good for something as powerful as a cortex gun to fall into League hands.“

He dons his Rhombocrystal and pretends to inspect Drund’s earpiece from seven feet away. ” Say…” he says much impressed, ”That is some really nice hardware on your ear – I have never seen its like before.” Not as an ear adornment anyway. ”If you don’t mind me asking, where did you come by that earring?”

Yambul grabs the adamantine swords from the dearly departed, and any other loot he might happened to see and follows Drund, sheathing his falchion.

At the meeting, he chuckles at all his friends questions. He opens his mouth a couple times to reply or make his own inquiries but the conversation moves on without him - so he waits for the first round to settle and just listens with a grin on his face.

Drund lets the questions roll over him with a practiced calm, sipping a pale green drink that smells faintly of mint and ozone "Selling tech to Leaguers?" the man smiles mischievously "They have big pockets those. Now, what I do not like is being robbed, and some of those think all the tech is their right and want to take it by force. I should have trusted my gut, something felt off about that cloaked woman" he scowls slightly, then shrugs "Still, no harm done thanks to you lot"

At Rhoreen's and Rūha's remarks, he gives a half-smile "Explorers, huh? That explains the gear, and the guts. You are right to keep League hands off what you find. They don't value the old tech, just the power it gives them"

He taps the box on the table "Me? I dabble. A few salvagers owe me favors, and I've got enough weight in the Watch to keep scavengers safe, for a cut. But I don't sell anything too hot. Normally"

"Baron. Yes. A small boon for fighting back-to-back with the Black Sovereign during the conquest of Starfall. Back at the day I would share his table and he would listen my word" he explains "But not any longer. Not with the Technic League keeping him distracted and Tek Makul keeping any reasonable voice away from him. Nowadays I rarely attend the Palace lunch. I cannot longer endure his parties..."

When Zzvkgrogk points out the earring, Drund's smile tightens just a little "This? Family heirloom. A present from my cousin. He left it behind when he enrolled to the Crusade to the north. Been trying to make it talk for years to no avail. Maybe it is broken... Still shinny and unique" he stretches his eyes maybe sensing your interest "Still, I can sell it to people like you. What about 500 silverdisks?"

= 5000 gp

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 24 ⇒ (17) + 24 = 41

"You're familiar with the Black Sovereign? That's quite the storied history." Ruha comments "We'd heard about the Technic League getting their fingers in Palace politics, but what is this about Tek Makul? Sounds like not all is well there."

She refrains from much comment regarding the earring, but still says "500 silverdisks? Doesn't that seem a lot for something that doesn't work?" She looks over at Zzvkgrogk to see how he'll counter-offer.

knoweng: 1d20 + 20 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 20 + 2 + 2 = 30

Zzvkgrogk’s eyes glitter strangely as he takes in the offer. ”5000 gp, you say? That seems like a fair offer for a family heirloom. Are you sure you want to part with it?”

Yambul watches Zzvkgrogk lean into the sparkly and smiles. He hopes it's worth the price!

Rhoreen listens in, keeping her sharp tongue in her mouth. She is very pleased to see Ruha up and walking, and not seemingly too impacted by the cuts she had earlier.

My magics are wondrous.

She will order wine if and when they get to a drinking spot, sipping it as the party makes small talk.

Drund's smile falters as he leans back "Tek Makul? He's Kevoth‑Kul's cousin, officially in charge of the Kellid Guard while the Sovereign 'recovers'. In practice, he lets the League run wild through the Guard. No oversight, no questions asked"

He flicks a finger at his earpiece "I tried to push back once, said we'd protect the people. Tek Makul reminded me whose family I'm part of. Since then, I keep my head down and let the League have their toys"

He sighs, then reaches into his lapel pocket "Reluctant, but fair is fair" Drund pushes the high-tech earring across the table "Five hundred, as promised. May it serve you better than it did me"

The trade is complete. Drund raises his glass "To good people and good business!"

You obtain an AI discipline facet

Yambul is quick to hoist his glass with this man. He seems a decent fellow, if a little rough around the edges. Still… after his quaff, he says, ”Look, we’re the type of people who are very hostile to the ‘League and their meddling ways, sir. In fact, I’d go so far as to say we’re actively opposed to their continued rule.”

”And what about you? Are you a friend of the Technic League or do you just deal with them as the main funnel of funds? We’ll depart neutrally if you are aligned with their interests, and no harm done. But if you too are opposed to the bastards, and it sounds like you maybe are, give us some aid. Help us in our battle. Reach out to the Black Sovereign. He may be more receptive to your friendship than he has been for some time.”

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 19 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 19 + 2 = 41 (heroism) to obtain aid

Ahhh, there it is.

Not to push my luck, but did Yambul find anything other then the two adamantine longswords on the toughs?

Rūha raises a glass as well to cheer the Baron, but quickly turns to watching him carefully when Yambul begins to reveal more of the party's allegiances. As much as it's clear that the Baron is unhappy about the current state of things in the Palace and has reason to hold it against the League, he also seems adept enough to play sides if it comes to it. She monitors his body language carefully as he responds to see if he's being truthful.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 24 ⇒ (4) + 24 = 28

"The next round is on me!" Zzvkgrogk chortles raising his glass, delighted with the AI facet exchange.

Gotta find a way to reswap the boxes. He's right, this cortex gun is too hot to just sell. Maybe after a few rounds I can pretend to be drunk, and when he's distracted by the barmaid, I can fling things to the floor by 'accident' and make the exchange.

Rhoreen takes Zzvkgrogk’s offer on the next round, having more wine. It’s much more than she usually drinks, but it has been an interesting night and so some celebrating might be good.

”Tell me, Drund, why does the Technic League allow the Night Market to exist? I’m thinking that they do, but not sure why? Maybe they use it to spy on those who have tech? It seems…it seems rather weird.”

Drund regards Yambul carefully, then lets out a slow exhale, as if weighing the weight of every word "You're candid folk, and I respect that. So I'll speak as plainly as you have" he leans in, voice low but steady "I'm no friend of the Technic League. Their greed poisons everything they touch, and their arrogance blinds them to the cost of their own interests. But..."

He swirls the liquor in his glass, then downs it in a practiced gulp, Zzvkgrogk’s round, a sharp, burning spirit that bites as it goes down. His eyes briefly widen, and a red flush begins to rise on his cheeks. He lets out a cough-laugh hybrid and grins "Now that's a proper drink"

The flush lingers, Drund, despite his sturdy Kellid frame, is clearly beginning to feel the effects "But," he continues, slower now, "as much as I'd like to see those bastards fall, I've also seen what happens when power collapses with nothing to take its place. The League's chokehold may be cruel, but chaos, real chaos, is worse. For my people. For Numeria"

"Now. If someone could unlock what lies beneath Silver Mount, the place the League guards above all else, then maybe that power could tip the scales. But above the power to defeat them, there is the need of... a leader. A voice strong enough to unite the Kellid clans. Only then could something new rise from the ashes"

He quiets a moment, as if letting the weight of that vision settle on him.

When Rhoreen speaks, Drund turns to her with a faint smirk "The Night Market survives because it's built to slip between the cracks. No single organizer, no consistent location. This time, I was the host, but next time? Could be someone in a different ward, someone you'd never guess"

He shrugs "From time to time, a Captain or Lieutenant stumbles onto the place. And what do they do? Buy up what they can and keep their mouths shut. That's the League for you, every jackal chasing tech to climb over the others. If they were disciplined, unified, maybe they could shut it down. But greed doesn't lend itself to obtaining common success"

Drund sets the empty glass down, leans back, and lets out a long breath "Still. You lot... you're stirring something. Just be sure what you're building doesn't burn the whole land down" he looks to Yambul and smiles "I like you boy. You remind me of someone of my past. Someone strong. If you say I should try out to talk to Kevoth Khul, then it is maybe a good idea to assist one of his parties"

Yambul nods at the man’s warnings. ”Well, technically the ‘League doesn’t rule now. They just run the show. We just need to pluck them from the equation. Like math. Subtraction I think.” he suggests, looking to Zzvkgrogk to confirm.

”Something you said interests me too. What lies beneath Silver Mount? Why do you think that’s the source of their power?”

GM Rutseg - Silver Mount is outside the city, right? But close I think. Could you tell us what we know?

Knowledge geography: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (14) + 5 = 19
Knowledge local: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18

”Something you said interests me too. What lies beneath Silver Mount? Why do you think that’s the source of their power?”

”And, Drund, what do you know of the slaves under the Mount?”

Drund's eyes narrow slightly, he leans forward again "Silver Mount is close. Too close, some say. North of Starfall's walls, within walking distance. It is the whole reason the city grew here. You can see it on the horizon, all jagged and black like some broken god's tombstone" his gaze drifts for a moment, picturing it "But what lies beneath it? That's the question that's drowned men in ambition and fear for over a hundred years"

"The League doesn't just want power, they're keeping something buried. Something they can't control, but dare not let go. Every expedition into the Mount is sanctioned, guarded, sealed. Only the high Captains have access to the deepest vaults. Whatever it is, it's old. Older than Numeria"

Then he shifts his gaze to Rhoreen and starts more hesitant "As for the slaves... these expeditions... they sometimes come out with metal slaves. Gearsmen in the most part, but sometimes larger robots. Then... there are some of this even more weird humanoids, the androids... they come out of there too sometimes..."

Drund sits back heavily "What I know for sure is this, no one who goes in too deep ever comes back the same. And most don't come back at all..."

He glances around the table, the drunkenness fading from his eyes, replaced by something sober and grim "You want to tear down the League? Fine. But if you go chasing what’s buried beneath Silver Mount, you may find it's not just their power holding it back. It might be the only thing stopping something worse from crawling out"

He gives a long pause, then adds in a softer tone "Still. If you're dead set on it, there's one name I've heard. A scavenger-turned-prophet. They say she's seen the core with her own eyes, and lived. Calls herself Casandalee. No one has seen her in decades, but maybe she knows something the rest of us can't stomach"

You know slightly more, the most important you discovered is the Rain of Stars, which formed Silver Mount, was in fact the product of the spaceship Divinity falling into Golarion. Silver Mount is where the main ship remains, and within, the Unity, which has used the power of the ship's engine, the Divinity Drive, to achieve godhood. Finally, in the Valley of the Spider you discovered her reach has been confined to Silver Mount, but she is plotting to find a way to get out and proclaim her godhood all over your world and beyond.

Something in the Baron's earlier comments catches in Ruha's mind. "You mentioned the need for a leader to unite the Kellid clans and unify the people in the power vacuum if the League is out of the picture. Obviously you have some people you don't think are suited for that role. But do you have someone you think might do a good job? Someone you might want leading Starfall?" She thinks to the various prominent persons in the Palace and elsewhere in Starfall. So far none of those she's met have struck her as uniting types. Maybe if Kevoth Kul could recover... once he was off the fluids.

She also asks "Say we went to the Palace, would you maybe be interested in coming with us? It would be good to have someone familiar with the parties involved, and you could see how things might have changed since you were last there."

As far as the discussion around Silver Mount, she hums in appreciation as Drund reveals what he knows. The thought that the League might be preventing something from leaving the buried ship is curious, but she suspects it isn't so simple.

Before sober moments

”He lets out a cough-laugh hybrid and grins "Now that's a proper drink"

Perfect! I didn’t over-do it! Zzvkgrogk quietly pulls the box with the cortex gun out of his haversack and holds it unseen in his lap under the table.

”If you say I should try out to talk to Kevoth Khul, then it is maybe a good idea to assist one of his parties"

Zzvkgrogk seizes the opportunity, and glowers past Drund’s shoulder toward the far end of the bar. ”Oh, ho… speak of the devils does he come here often?”

As soon as Drund turns away from the table to look in the indicated direction, the Yoski lunges for the box of junk on the table and attempts the swap.

SleightOfHand: 1d20 + 20 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 20 + 2 = 25

”OH, uh, was that me? Sorry. My mistake, they must actually be a regular patron – not devils here...” He returns to the topic at hand. ”Yes, do talk to Kevoth Khul – perhaps now he will listen to reason. Just – whatever you do – “ he pleads pointing to the box with the cortex gun now on the table. ”Don’t sell that to the League.”

~~~
A little later:

"Still. If you're dead set on it, there's one name I've heard. A scavenger-turned-prophet. They say she's seen the core with her own eyes, and lived. Calls herself Casandalee..."

Zzvkgrogk subconsciously places his hand over his most plush pocket -- the one containing the CastandaCore. He frowns.

Oh Brigh... Castandalee is a core... but is she The Core?

"You have been to his parties?! Have you met Ghartone? If so, have you gleaned what manner of ... creature he is? I hear he has a very strange diet."

He waits in silence to see how the Merchant will feel about being seen in the palace with the Zzvkith.

"Some new leader? No... I don't know anyone able to do so nowadays" Drund starts "The only man who has united the clans in recent times was Kevoth Kul. The Black Sovereign. And I don't say that lightly"

He rubs a scar at the edge of his jaw "He was strong, brilliant even, before he fell under the League's sway. I saw it happen. That spark fade behind the wine and tech and their false promises. He's still got followers, deep ones. But I do not see him coming back. And even if he does, he has lost the freshness of his young days"

When Rūha proposes about accompanying you to the palace, he thinks for a while "I have not been there for a while. But I guess I could introduce you. You will need a present to bring to the table. And expect to fall back on the radar of the League while they are prowling around the palace"

Perception-distracted-drunk DC 25: 1d20 + 19 - 5 - 2 ⇒ (12) + 19 - 5 - 2 = 24
Drund looks at Zzvkgrogk irked "You ratfolk! Watch your hands!? What you do?!"

But he seems to not give any importance to the stumble, he did not really grasped what happened "Ghartone. He's just half-man. Too many body parts swapped out, too many meals too twisted to name. The lad was burned in a laboratory fire it is said. He emerged only half-alive. He is an a@&%&+*. But he has many of the low rank Leaguers under his orders. He keeps the Palace under the control of the League"

Zzvkgrogk looks down and away as Drund admonishes him. He doesn't bother trying to conceal the inadvertent whistle he makes when he speaks."Sshorry --" Maybe I did over-do it..."

"I knew it! Ghartone -- he's probably the mastermind behind this 'coup'." We need to stop the tongue of the worm!

"Sooo..." he begins suggesting "Are we all guests? Or do we go in as before -- with two of us in the kitchen as 'insiders', and the two of you as guests? And... and has anyone seen Khalia recently?!"

Happy that Drund seems unfazed by Zzvkgrogk's little indiscretion, Ruha turns to topic at hand "What kind of present would be appropriate? His lobby has a plethora of broken gearsmen, which makes he think he'd appreciate something like a functioning battle robot that he can pit himself against... A little impractical of a gift though."

"I imagine with the good Baron vouching for us, we could all be introduced together rather than splitting up."

Casandalee, huh? Never heard of her. Rhoreen muses as she smiles inwardly, knowing the deadness of that end.

Rhoreen listens to the plans, nodding at Ruha's idea as a good one.

"Yeah, we need to find Khalia too. There are updates they need to know."

"Yeah, we need to find Khalia. And however many of us are going as guests, we need a gift. I like going in through the kitchen again..." He drifts off thinking about what to cook before drifting back in again, ”But we need a gift no matter what.”

He turns to their host, ”I don’t suppose you have an appropriate gift? Something technological? I guess we shouldn’t have sold everything at the market. ‘Could’ve used something as a gift from that pile maybe.”

I’m a little confused about what the encounter is here. Are we going to be granted a private audience with a special enough gift, or a few moments at some sort of party off to the side? Is Drund suggesting we’re going to need to sneak in, or out, or both, to avoid the League?

I guess we'll see Yambul. I think we heard earlier that Kevoth Kul hosts some big parties, so maybe that gets us admittance to the party.

"I like going in through the kitchen again..."

"OH, I was just thinking -- if the affair involves an actual party Yambul and I would not be so much 'kitchen staff' but 'wait staff' -- serving the hors d’oeuvres or whatever and bussing -- not split up from guests -- but in the same room in different roles. Maybe as a surprise backup should something go awry, but I am up for anything. So, is it a sort of party thing with 'wait staff' or is it more formal?"

Drund takes another swig from his flask and leans back against the cracked stone wall "Aye... not a formal audience, not exactly" he rubs at the scar on his jaw again as if recalling bitter memories "Kevoth Kul still plays the part of a king, calls it a 'royal lunch'. Happens in the throne room. Grand thing, loud and boisterous. Anyone can walk in. It's a sort of open court, though it's more feast than forum. You show up, you bring a gift, you get a seat"

He lifts two fingers "One rule, really. Your tribute must be fitting. Anything worth at least 500 gold gets a person a chair. Doesn't matter what it is, so long as it glimmers or growls. I've seen people trade weapons, rare tech, even strange beasts. It's more show than substance"

He eyes Rūha, then Yambul "But don't mistake it for a safe audience. Kevoth Kul's mood swings like a swinging blade. One moment he will invite you to drink by his side, laughing at your stories. Next, he will wave a hand and have his guards throw you to the floor just to see if you put up a good fight. He gets bored easy... and that's when things get bloody"

Drund leans forward, lowering his voice slightly, a flicker of sincerity in his drunken expression "I can present you. Name you as foreign dignitaries, travelers, merchants, whatever you prefer. He will listen, or he won't. Might adore your presence for ten minutes, or ignore you like flies. Just know this: once you're inside, the League is watching. Ghartone's men never strays far from the Black Sovereign's side"

He scratches his beard, then adds, "If you want a gift that'll really catch his eye... bring something for his hounds. He's got a pack of aurumvoraxes now. Golden-furred nightmares. Smart as they are deadly. He adores them like children. One man gave a carved obsidian collar lined with shiny gems, earned a place at the Black Sovereign's elbow for the rest of the month"

A grunt escapes him "So if you want my advice, find or make something that’d flatter those beasts. That might just keep you alive long enough to be interesting"

Hope things are more clear now

Ah yes, thank you.

Rhoreen begins to rack her considerable brain to figure out what might be a worthy gift.

1d20 + 22 ⇒ (18) + 22 = 40 Know (Nature)

”Aurumvoraxes, you say? Interesting…” Rhoreen wonders aloud. Anything that she might know from her knowledge check that might be interesting?

"Something that would flatter an aurumvorax..." The only aurumvoraxes that spring to Ruha's mind are those the party encountered in the Choking Tower. And those didn't exactly come adorned with accessories that might have provided a hint as to what would fit them. She thinks it over and suggests "If they already have collars, maybe something like a type of food they really enjoy. Or a set of armor shaped for them."

Rhoreen knows auronvoraxes eat fresh meat, though they are fond of gnawing on metals, particularly gold and copper.

Very helpful - thanks!

”What’s a aurumvorax?” Yambul, fountain of questions, asks the group - unsure what they are.

Assuming it's explained to him, he suggests, "Given a little time, I could craft a few chew toys out of gold and copper. I'd need to get some time in a jewelers forge as I don't have one for the smelting."

"Oh, how may arumvorax does he keep around?" he adds.

"We probably have a couple days before the best time arrives for us to go visit the Palace again..." She leaves the reason oblique due to the Baron's presence "Chew toys sound like an excellent option Yambul. Shows off our knowledge and likely appreciated by his pets."

Rhoreen nods, happy that her superior brains is being appreciated by the group.

"Very good, we should get to work on that and figuring out more about what we could do next," she says.

If and when she has time, she will commit the scroll of Prying Eyes into her mind, so she might use it to scout as needed in the future.

The Baron explains the Kevoth Khul keeps a pack of 3 aurumvoraxes always around.

With that you leave the man, a bit drunk, with his things and retreat to your own inn. There, people are already going to sleep, but you still may have a bit of time to work in your own stuff, like crafting beautiful jewels or memoing advanced vision scrolls of magic.

Khalia, please feel free to rejoin the group at whatever time it is convenient for you!

Just realized I never finished healing back up after that near death experience. Still down 64 HP. Will heal 12 HP overnight so...
CLW healing: 9d8 + 9 ⇒ (6, 6, 1, 5, 7, 3, 1, 7, 6) + 9 = 51
That'll bring me to 1 HP damage for 9 taps.
---

For her part, Ruha feels exhausted with the day's proceedings. She makes a mental note to check in on Saoria at the Red Reaver the next day to see how the drug-brewing doctor has fared in light of the doctoring of his supply. Otherwise Ruha settles in to rest for the night.

Yambul nods along with the information, ”So yeah, we’ll need three chew toys. It’s getting late - let’s head back to the inn. Maybe we can find Khalia there.”

He waits until they’re back in the room and have some privacy, ”Tomorrow I’ll plead with some jeweler to use their smelter for a time. I’ve got all the tools I need, and they’re very fine. Might take me a day or two to get them done. What’re you gonna do while I’m busy?”

GM Rutseg, is that 500gp for the five of us all together, or 2,500gp (500gp per seat)? Also, how long does Yambul think it’ll take? If he needs to maybe he can buy some pieces basically done, and just put some flourishes on them or something.

The Baron explains the Kevoth Khul keeps a pack of 3 aurumvoraxes always around.

Zzvkgrogk glowers a bit at no one in particular. Who keeps 3 aurumvoraxes around?!

He thinks some more
5 metal chews each for 3 aurumvoraxes = 1/sqrt(1-(v/c)^2). I don’t think Yambul has that kind of time.

”I like the idea of metal chews, but how much time do you have for crafting Yambul? Oh, let’s do what we can in the time we have. You’ll come up with something, and it’ll be great!”

After a hard day of pilfering, Zzvkgrogk is also ready to return to some study and craft then turn in for the evening.

Rhoreen ponders things. AFK today, will post more tomorrow. Sorry.

Khalia is waiting in the Inn, sure of the return of the Zzvkith from their assault on the Red Reaver.

"Oh good. It looks like you've done well to avoid heavy injury. I haven't heard anything of your activity through the gutter chatter. I was summoned to the Palace. Well, not me." Khalia waves her hand in front of her face. "It turns out Kul-Inkit, Consort of Kevoth Kul, took note of us when we first visited the Palace. It also turns out that Casandalee was instrumental in protecting her son." Khalia looks to Zzvkgrogk, patting her chest pocket in a gesture that conveys the android's acknowledgement of the AI Core.

"She wants to speak to her. I hope that Casandalee will know more about the Consort's Son. I believe we can visit with Kul-Inkit tomorrow. She strikes me as a strong ally within the Palace, if we can convince her of our intentions here in Starfall. She is aware of her mate's difficulties with the Numerian fluids."

Ruha may be very weary, but Khalia's story keeps her away from bed for now. "Kul-Inkit? We'd certainly heard about her. How did she tie us to Casandalee? It seems like a strange guess to make about a group of motley strangers." She furrows her brow "We haven't exactly been advertising it. But if she owes Casandalee, then it can't hurt to have a talk with her. She might be the only level headed person in the entire palace from the sound of it."

"Thanks Zzvkgrogk. I agree, time is short, but we'll manage something! Maybe I can hire some assistants to speed things up for the rough work while I focus on the finishing details."

"Hey Khalia! Sounds like you made some headway! So did we." he grins. "We met Baron Drund, friend of Kevoth Khul. He suggested a way we could get in to see Kevoth - at one of his parties."

"He should be sober by now, so I suppose we could talk to him about that. Not sure what else we have to offer at this point, but we're a few days from joining him. He keeps three aurumvorax. They like chewtoys of gold and copper, so I'm going to make some as presents to both get into the party and impress Lord Khul."

"Tomorrow I'll see what the local jewelers can help me with and craft the items. Might take some time though..."

He's clearly looking forward to the crafting process. Though the party is in a rush, he's hoping he'll have time to do the work justice.

"She wants to speak to her. I hope that Casandalee will know more about the Consort's Son. I believe we can visit with Kul-Inkit tomorrow. She strikes me as a strong ally within the Palace, if we can convince her of our intentions here in Starfall. She is aware of her mate's difficulties with the Numerian fluids."

Rhoreen’s brows furrow as she looks at Khalia. ”Well, that seems like a much better plan than serving hors d’oeuvres and trying to find the right binky for the aurumvoraxes,” she says trying to put pieces together.

”Might be good to meet with Kul-Inkit and then decide what to do next. It’s an interesting lead.”

From what Khalia talked with Kul-Inkit, it seems one of her old timer servants confused her with Casandalee and brought it to her attention.

Yambul notes it will require 2500 gp to earn five sits, and he can do some basic stuff with some material.
Give me a crafting roll (or three if you are doing three works), and if it is good, we will find the details to make it work!

Yambul makes three fancy gold and copper chew toys - one for each aurumvorax. Well four actually. Two reasons, 1) he wants one that's not as good, in case of error. And 2) the idea is that maybe the aurumvorax can be placated later if we encounter them under hostile conditions. Here, we gave you one of these. See? They even smell the same. It might confuse the brutes, or they might just gnaw on it like a new toy. Might buy us some time…

Anyway, he’ll spend 4,000gp on the toys. He starts working on all four, but if one goes a little awry, he stops working on that to focus on the other three.

Craft jewelry: 1d20 + 17 ⇒ (5) + 17 = 22
Craft jewelry: 1d20 + 17 ⇒ (12) + 17 = 29
Craft jewelry: 1d20 + 17 ⇒ (12) + 17 = 29
Craft jewelry: 1d20 + 17 ⇒ (15) + 17 = 32

He'll pocket the 'dud' for use later.

The following morning ...

”Oh, Yambul – wait!” says Zzvkgrogk, ” – if you’re going to craft you should take this.”

He hands Yambul an extract of Crafter’s Fortune (+5 luck bonus on next Craft skill check (x4 if necessary)).

”In the meantime, the rest of us can meet with Kul-Inkit.” Zzvkgrogk re-re-re-re-suggests.

Cool, thanks Zzvkgrogk! +5 to the above please.

And you lot should totally meet with her and coordinate our plans while I'm working. I'd hate to meet with the leader only to have nothing to say!

Rhoreen checks in on the crafting work, offering to help but then leaving without doing anything.

Ruha takes it easy the next morning, first watching Yambul as he sets up his area for a hard day of crafting fine metallic chew-toys, and then leisurely picking up breakfast and coffee before retreating to her room. She emerges a little later with normal gear in hand and ready to head to the Palace. She comments "We'll be missing Yambul, so it'll be a good move to make sure we don't draw too much attention from the League while we're there. Just get in, have our conversation, and then leave. We can save the troublemaking for the next time we visit."

Yambul sets to work, tools laid out across a scorched worktable beneath the flickering light of his ioun stone. The first crafting, a standard collar, is clean, competent work. Nothing special, but functional. But then, something shifts. Whether it's focus, rhythm, or luck, the second device nearly hums with perfection. The third glints with such elegant alignment that even a League engineer might raise a brow. By the time the fourth is done, he has to concede to himself he has had the crafter's luck on this day.

---

Meanwhile, at the Palace, Rūha, Zzvkgrogk, Rhoreen, and Khalia pass through a series of layered gates under the wary gaze of well armored Kellid guards. The hall reeks of oil, incense, and something faintly metallic. At the inner checkpoint, they're met by a woman in a sharply cut robe of indigo and bronze, the personal servant of Kul-Inkit.

"My lady will not receive you in her chambers" she says in a low tone "It is better if your encounter just seems casual. Follow me"

The room you are led into is dimly lit, with cushions and drapes of deep green silk. Two guards sit at the edge, blowing purple dust from small vials and muttering under their breath. The servant clicks her tongue in disapproval "Excuse me a moment"

She whispers something; the guards grumble, then stagger out, leaving only the party "She will be with you shortly"

Ten minutes pass.

Kul-Inkit enters without ceremony, tall and veiled in a dark-gold shawl, her eyes like sharpened obsidian. She closes the door with a flick of her hand and looks over the group.

"Is she here?" she asks, gaze shifting between you "May I speak with Casandalee?"