GM Otha’s The Moonscar (Inactive)

Game Master Otha

Welcome to The Moonscar gameplay thread. Please dot and delete as we await the start of Gameday.

Note: Theo carries a lesser extend rod; he's pretty strong against poison normally, but he'll be happy to receive any buff you guys can offer, especially protection from evil or magic circle vs. evil, as those have the side effect of providing deflection for him. Not sure if you can do Harrowings, Medium seances or similar rituals, but if so, Theo would be eager and willing to be part of them!

A tall, well-muscled Taldan man strolls in with the agility and balance of a great cat. Behind him stroll in porters, guards, accountants and other merchant caravan members, all heading towards their designated quarters upstairs to secure their respective rooms.

Approaching the Pathfinders, he says "Marvelous! I would have come sooner would I have known they drafted such fine agents for this one! well met! You may call me Theodric; pleased and delighted to meet you. If I can do anything to be of help in the immediate please do not hesitate to ask.

Characters will help out where they can I am sure but I would recommend that you bring some scrolls of the spells that you would like to be cast on you. Without a wizard or a cleric in the party easy access to a lot of handy spells (like Magic Circle vs. Evil) are available in scroll form only.

A thin but determined dwarf enters the room. Clearly visible on his left cheek above a well kept beard is a black tattoo of an outstretched hand, the iconic symbol of Irori. Embedded in his forehead are a series of strangely coloured stones of mystical origin.

The servant of Irori bows to Theodric.

"I am Flint Firetoe and I am most honoured to meet you. I am certain that we will learn much from each other on our journey together."

Marta enters the room silently and takes a corner seat, her 10' spear narrowlyor (or is it precisely?) avoiding colliding with anything during her journey. She moves with a practiced glide, her upper torso almost motionless as her feet move deliberately as if each step were preconsidered. As always, prior to a briefing (provided there is a briefing for this mission), she has cast heightened awareness on herself.

Marta's visage is somehow a combination of perfect and off. Her head is well proportioned but too large for her body. She is of medium build with straight white hair and a discernible metallic sheen to her skin. She is wearing red and gold clothing in honor of Ragathiel, her god, with his emblem on her black cloak (gold sword crossed with red wing), the one piece of equipment that looks 'nice'. As many pathfinders, she has an assortment of ioun stones in orbit above her head, tracing a trail by her halo that, in conjunction with said halo, resembles a planetary system. At her side are a pair of shackles and she wears no armor other than a scaly tunic.

Not much for pointless words and civility she says nothing and merely observes the others. At some point an aura surrounds her and changes nature as it shifts from shadowy tendrils, to white motes, then metallic stars, and finally coruscating worms. By the end of things, barring any magical misdirection, she will know the alignment of each member of the party - a task she always performs when she is teamed up with a new group. She smiles at the greetings and introduces herself.

"Marta. I believe I have heard of you two too. Tough there are hundreds of Pathfinders, it gets a bit rarified at this level. This must be pretty serious if they've called us in."

She manages to seem reserved yet friendly at the same time.

Flint raises an eyebrow at Marta's comments.

"Perhaps but maybe not. The direction of leadership can be at times difficult to understand and their motives are often inscrutable. The importance of the task is less important than what we are able to accomplish."

"Most astute, Flint Firetoe. Indeed, their goals are often deceptive and sometimes even counterproductive. When they call us in it is because they need someone with resourcefulness and/or power."

Flint nods.

"In short they want the job done, now."

The dwarf looks around and smiles. To say that he was impatient for action would not be accurate and yet a certain curiosity about the world and a yearning to improve himself through action sparkle brightly in his metallic tinted eyes.

"I hope we have a healer... I tend to... hang by a limb in some battles, so to speak..." adds Theodric, pointing at the various notches and scratches on his polished mithral armor and magic buckler. "Yeah... some of those won't buff out, said the smithy... bloody Mana Wastes..."

The dwarf half-smiles at Theodric not knowing if he being serious or not.

"Well, you might want to get out of the way of your enemies blows, at least some of the time. That tends to help."

Flint examines the banged up armour and shield with a critical eye.

"All of that heavy armour must slow you down. No wonder you are getting hit so often."

Flint ends his jesting.

"In a pinch I am sure we will be able to help you out. I for one have no intention of leaving any Pathfinder face down in the dirt."

"Well, I'm no cleric, but I can cast a spell that can cure serious wounds and keep a scroll with breath of life on it handy even I cannot use it. Speaking of which, all my stuff is well labelled, and the scroll is here if someone can use it and wants to grab it in an emergency. A cleric would be nice, though, or an oracle of life. But I agree with Flint about not getting hit which turns out to be difficult at times."

"It would be best to give that scroll to someone that can use it before the emergency happens. I could be that person as I have spent many hours pouring over ancient magical texts in the bowels of the Grand Lodge. If you require assistance with your magical devices I would be happy to oblige."

"Still, perhaps in this case there might be someone better suited to this task. I primarily allow my bow to do my talking for me on the battlefield and I hate to deprive my adversaries of such lively conversation."

Sweet Mawd might be the better choice here as a familiar's actions are generally less valuable than a character's actions in a combat situation. :)

"Flint! you surely jest! the point of the armor is to GET hit! it can also take a beating for you when you sleep you know... no need for this gentleman to sleep with one eye open like you monkish lot! besides, someone has to be the wall of steel between the large brutes and the rest of the expedition yes? and if I may add, not everyone has time for a lifetime of martial arts training, a perfect vegetarian diet and the vow of never making love to a woman! some of us have... ahem... duties! ha ha ha! nay: RESPONSIBILITIES!" answers the Earl with a wink. "And don't worry about my armor slowing things down. I've been known to keep up."

Clapping Flint on the shoulder, he then listens to Marta, and appears deep in thoughts for a moment, before nodding. "Our celestial-blessed friend here has a good point, Firetoe... while I do carry a wand and a few potions of healing, the only scrolls I have are for the removal of diseases... you know... for perfectly valid reasons. I travel a lot you see... anyways... I can purchase more scrolls for other... eventualities or situations. Money is not the object gents: please recommend away!"

Zaarah walks to the group and seems to have a heated argument with someone. Curiously, she is constantly looking at her sheathed Scimitar with an agitated look on her face and no one else is visible around her.

”Aaahhhh!!! I am going to kill you!! I mean ... no ... yes!“ she suddenly shouts.

20 seconds of silence...

... and suddenly Zaarah starts sobbing.

”Ehhh, ehhh, you are sooooooooooo mean!!! I don’t like killing... I .. I think ... “ she says with tears flowing down her cheeks.

Zaarah is a scrawny girl with auburn hair and amber eyes. She is standing with eyes wide open.

Her features seem Chelaxian but also have something else mixed in.

She is wearing light mithral armor and carries a black pulsing Scimitar at her hip that is attached to her wrist with a very fine chain.

Zaarah seems to be pleasantly surprised when she sees the other Pathfinders!

”Oh!!! You are all completely unknown to me ... it is still ... yes ... is so good to see you again! Such an unbelievable honor to serve with you again ... or never ever again!“ Zaarah shouts and runs up to your side.

”It is really you all! But can you believe that we are here together?!? Oh ... you do not know me. I am Venture Captain Zaarah Katsu. I kill people ... and save people also. I am lucky. So you are lucky!!“ she says rolling her red eyes.

~

She suddenly draws her Scimitar that is so black that it almost absorbs light.

She seems to listen to something and looks at her black magical sword and then starts sobbing again!

”No, no, no ... “ she says and wipes her tears from her face.

She looks at all the Pathfinders and realizes that she did it again.

”I have taken my medication for today! I swear!“ she says and jumps into the air.

Flint continues on with his conversation with Theodric despite Zaarah's melodramatic entrance. The monk smiles warmly at the man. He can well imagine in a score of years or so that his 'Responsibilities' as he likes to call them will more than likely be clogging up the halls of the Grand Lodge making a ruckus and causing no end of trouble for the more orderly members of their society.

"You my friend are what we call a hopeless case. So do not worry that we will try to convert you over to a bland life of rice and water and endless nights of meditation."

Flint says with a laugh.

"In terms of magical equipment for one like yourself that cannot heal themselves I would recommend perhaps another wand or two. A robust man like yourself can take quite a beating and you can only expect so much healing from an entry level wand."

"If your budget allows than certain long-duration scrolls that allow you to fly (Air Walk) or provide protection (Stone Skin) are always of great value."

Flint does not know what to say to the strange newcomer. He nods politely in her direction acknowledging her presence.

Zaarah waves back at the dwarf with a grin.

“Hiiiiii … you look great Mr Dwarf Sir! But I feel that I’m making you uncomfortable. We don’t want that. So what’s your name?!“

A lady enters the room, servants behind her arriving and setting up a table with fresh bread, cheese and bottles of wine. She bows, saying, ”M’Lord bids me to welcome you; enjoy these refreshments while we await the rest of your party.”

Continue to RP and introduce yourselves; we’ll officially start this Sunday…

Flint nods back to Zaarah.

"Of course. I am Flint and this is Theodric and Marta."

"Why don't you join us?"

He spots the refreshments and snags a bottle and some glasses to share with the others. He grabs a corner edge of a crusty loaf to dip in his partially full glass of wine.

"A bit of a guilty pleasure I have to admit but as I am not at home I might as well indulge."

"In moderation of course."

Flint gives the distinct impression that outlander drinks like wine are not well appreciated with his clan. Although getting cold-stone drunk on powerful home-crafted brew like Boulderhead Bock is widely accepted.

Zaarah waves her hand at Theodric and Marta.

"Super great meeting you also Theodric and Marta!!" she says with a crazy look on her face.

She then listens to Flint and vehemently shakes her head.

"No ... we ... we do not drink! You know ... it does not mix well with the meds!" she says and then looks at ther scimitar and continues to shake her head.

"No I am not going to tell them that ..." and she then turns back to Theodric, Flint and Marta and smiles.

"Have you all died before?"

@Flint: Great ideas! Scroll of overland flight is 1,125gp and stoneskin is 950gp correct? I'll probably add another wand of cure light wounds in case my current wands run out. Looks like the inquisitors can handle my wands of cure and my scrolls of stoneskin, and looks like the magus can hit me with overland flight or fly if I buy some of these yes? I still have potions of fly but I'll keep those for emergencies.

"Thanks for your expert advice Firetoe, much appreciated, old chap. And yes, I agree with your assessment: I am too far gone for saving at this point, and I have fully accepted my sentence of overseeing the vineyards and distressed ladies in the duchies surrounding my estate. One must do it, for if not me, who shall step in?" replies Theodric, before witnessing the dwarf's eyes moving towards the group's newest arrival.

Turning to the newcomer, Theodric opens his mouth as if to speak, then holds his tongue, taking a step back and looking back to the dwarf with a "I got nothing -- all yours" look on his face.

Setare looks at Theo and seems to be sad.

She sits down on the couch and expectantly looks at Marta and seems to be sad.

That is always what happens ... she says to herself and shakes her head.

Ha ha ... sorry for going your nerves guys!! ;-)

Theodric pours everyone a glass of wine in silence and starts serving everyone, but upon hearing Zaarah's last comment, he retracts the wine cup saying, "Oh.. sorry... I did not know... err... nice to meet you, by the way. You look like a very charming young lady. Very sorry to hear about your ongoing condition. Do you feel... ready for this mission? or would you rather rest here at the Grand Lodge for the time being?"

He downs the first cup in one go, then sits, savoring the second slowly and smiling at Zaarah awkwardly.

Good plan Theodric except that Overland Flight is a personal spell so you would have to UMD it yourself for it to work. This is why I suggested Air Walk instead. My character's UMD is rather high so Flint can handle most mid-level scrolls rather routinely even if the spell is not on his spell list so feel free to pick scrolls from even the Occult book if you like. :)

Flint nods knowingly at Theodric and responds to Zaarah.

"I am sure that it will be better on this adventure."

"Died? No. Gone to the abyss? Yes."

She shrugs and adds, "But I came back."

"I went to a different planet. Does that count?" says Theodric, swirling the bottom of his second cup of wine.

"Not exactly, though it does give you bragging rights. Very few folks can make that claim, but I suspect there are more than one of us in this room right now that could."

Theodric pours everyone a glass of wine in silence and starts serving everyone, but upon hearing Zaarah's last comment, he retracts the wine cup saying, "Oh.. sorry... I did not know... err... nice to meet you, by the way. You look like a very charming young lady. Very sorry to hear about your ongoing condition. Do you feel... ready for this mission? or would you rather rest here at the Grand Lodge for the time being?"

He downs the first cup in one go, then sits, savoring the second slowly and smiling at Zaarah awkwardly.

Zaarah nods with understanding.

“Yeah … we can’t take offense that you don’t trust us. It’s ok …. “ she says and looks at the floor and stays silent.

Theodric looks at the other agents with concern upon hearing Zaarah's morose answer. Taking the others aside, he says, "Gents, I am concerned about this young lady's mental state. We cannot drag her into battle in this condition. Should we speak to the Decemvirate?"

perception : 1d20 + 27 ⇒ (7) + 27 = 34

Zaarah stands up after overhearing the whisper and sighs.

“We think your concern is justified Theodric … but I’d not be here if the situation wouldn’t be dire. As Marta said: we are some of the most accomplished and powerful Pathfinders. Aren’t we all strange? The decimverate called us … there must be a reason and Mesh and I are here to find out!“ she says and now is grinning.

Flint does not look overly concerned about Zaarah's bizarre social behaviour.

"I have seen people as cool as a cucumber in the board room lose their mind on the battlefield. Perhaps a bit of action is all that she (or they including her Black Blade) requires to focus her attention."

"Besides I doubt that she could have made it this far if she is crazy as she looks."

“Thank you Flint!!!! That’s one of the nicest things someone has said to me … lately ever!!“ she says beaming and things about hugging him but decides not to.

Theodric heeds the wise words of Flint and nods to the dwarf. Listening to Zaarah, Theodric is relieved to see her finally break off her depressed attitude and starting to engage with the team. "Glad to see you're feeling better Ms. Katsu! When we're in battle it's good to know that everyone in the team can be relied on and that they'll have each other's back in a crisis. I swear to everyone in this team that no one will be left behind as long as I live and breathe!"

“Wow!! That’s a bold statement!! So what’s your story? Why are you so good?“ she says and raises her eyebrow.

"Now you're trying to make me a proud man, Ms. Katsu, and I've seen enough misplaced pride in or out of this organization for more than a dozen lifetimes, so I'm not taking your bait. I don't need your flattery. I need to know I can trust you. Experience taught me that an expedition party that doesn't stick together is as good as a dead one, and if a team doesn't set itself straight prior to departure, well, they might as well tell The Ten to get the next Pathfinder Recovery mission ready..."

Taking a step towards Zaarah, he adds with a whisper, "And both you and I know that the challenges faced by senior Seekers like us will be much too great for any Pathfinder Recovery mission. So get your feelings and tantrums in order, Ms. Katsu. I'm not buying it for a second."

Zaarah thinks and eventually nods.

“You are smart and kind as it seems. Good!! You’re caring for us but and it’s a good caring … I think … “ she says and after 10 seconds give a a thumbs up!

The small gnome pokes her head into the room. ”Welp, seems like I was running a bit tardy. Had to be sure I had everything packed all right!”. She nods towards the group members she had met before, but is surprised not recall them.

She waved at the others. ”Im Alie. Nice to meet all of you! I cast spells, obviously,” she added, showing off her lack of armor and real weapons. ”I wonder what sort of hijinx they have cooked up for us this time!?”

"Good to see you again Alie. As for teamwork, we shall see. I am committed to succeed, and I hope that is good enough for you. To be honest, we inquisitors tend to use the people around us in whatever way works, an odd sort of teamwork, but it works."

Flint snickers at Marta's assessment.

"Well, that is not exactly how I would have put it but you are not wrong."

Flint tries to be a voice for calm in the group.

"It will all work out it in the end. There is always an adjustment period with so many different personalities thrown together quite randomly at the last moment."

I think that sums up quite nicely how parties are chosen in PFS. :)

He looks over at Alie.

"Welcome. I do not think you are late at all. Our host has given us some time to get to know each other before the mission."

"A bit of wine perhaps?"

Once the last of you arrives. Ambrus Valsin swiftly walks in and starts talking with no fanfare.

”Thank you for responding to my summons so quickly, I’ll not beat around the bush. Janira Gavix is missing; I’m sure most of you know of her, or have been guided through your confirmation by her. She was last seen in Nirmathas, in its port city of Tamran. This is a top priority directly from the Decemvirate; I need you to go there immediately, search for her, find her, and bring her back. We have a ship awaiting on standby even now. Quickly, do you have any questions? Admittedly, we don’t know much but I’ll answer as best I can…”

Zaarah thinks for a moment and giggles.

"I actually have never met her. I am giggling because I am here because of a random halfling? I do not want to be rude but why is she important?" she says with a 'whatever' facial expression.

Flint is quite sure that Zaarah will be getting an earful from Ambrus so he does not add any fuel to the fire.

"Can you tell us why she was there or do you have any idea to whom we may speak to in Tamran to find out more about her whereabouts?"

@GM Otha - Where are we now? I am asking as travel by ship is relatively slow but if we are only a day or two out it might make sense in game to take the ship.

”Ive never met her either, but I know she has shepherded at least 75% of the newer members of the society through their confirmation. They all have a soft spot for her so morale would be really low if we aren’t able to return her to all her friends,” Alie announces.

”Do we know what sort of mission Janira was on? I’m sure she was doing something for the society.”

@Flint: The module doesn’t specify; I’ve found most modules don’t do the introductory stuff near so well as the scenarios do, so I have to ad-lib a bit. The trek by ship will take less than a week we’ll say…

Venture-Captain Valsin scowls at Zaarah. ”Random halfling? I’ll have you know Janira has shepherded many notable Pathfinders through their introductory stages and initial missions, including some of you here, not to mention your former instructor, Flyndyngylyn, who I can assure you holds her in very high regard. If this wasn’t such an emergency, I’d toss you out on your keister this very second. This is to be your highest priority, random kitsune, are we understood?”

He lets out a long sigh and then responds to Flint and Alie. ”She was doing a survey of Southern Fangwood, and based herself out of Tamran. Her last message from there mentioned hearing of a portal of some sort west of Fangwood; she requested permission to explore there. That was a month ago and we’ve heard nothing from her since. She had been reporting in every week, at the least…”

Flint nods as Ambrus speaks.

"Well, a portal that is something. As she was reporting weekly do you more specific information about where that portal might be or where it might lead?"

"Southern Fangwood forest is rather large so any more specificity would be helpful. I understand that you might not know but it is always best to ask."

"Also do you know if she had any local contacts in Tamran?"

@GM Otha - Are there any knowledge checks we can make to know about the location or nature of this portal? I understand that this information is in the slide provided but our characters do not know this (yet).

Valsin shakes his head. ”Only that the rumored portal was west of the Fangwood…she was on a sabbatical to do research that she was interested in but that could potentially benefit the Society. She used local guides from what we know but no names that we can recall. We know she stayed at Gar’s Last Meal, a fairly safe inn near the waterfront, but that’s about it; I know it’s not much to go on, but that’s where you need to start your search. Alas, our lodge in Ashfall is not yet operational at the moment due to the constant warfare or we’d have more information for you…”

@Flint: Not right now but you will have some a knowledge check concerning the portal not long after your search starts in earnest…however, I’ve added a general knowledge check about Nirmathas/Tamran below:

Theodric greets Alie with bow, "Enchanted to make your acquaintance, Mistress of Spells Alie. Your reputation precedes you and it is an honor to serve as your sword for this adventure. I am at your disposal should you wish to discuss strategy before the start of our mission."

===========================

After hearing the VC's debrief and listening to the Pathfinders, Theodric nods and adds, "Alie is right. The damage to the organization's morale would be irreparable. We must rescue Janira. As Flint mentioned, barring any notes she may have sent to the Grand Lodge lately, we will need to speak to her contact there, or scour the town for information."

Zaarah rolls her eyes.

"Do not get me wrong ... as someone who's father was a halfling I actually feel obligated to help her but I was just trying to understand if this is really as mundane a mission as ... 'morale is going to be low so save Janira'! I mean sorry but there have to be other agents more suited for this mission? I mean how hard can it be save her?" she asks a little annoyed.

Flint nods at the Venture Captain.

"We will do our best to get to the bottom of this. Starting off at the inn is the logical first step. A drawing of her likeness would be helpful if you have it or at least an apt description. Also a copy of any mission notes."

The dwarf looks over at Zaarah.

"Often when experienced and noted Pathfinders disappear it indicates a certain level of risk that might be deadly to less talented agents. The exact reason cannot be know by us nor does it matter. We have a mission to do and I intend that it will get done. Quickly, efficiently and hopefully with no loss of life."

Flint has heard about Tamran during his studies as the local historian of his clan.

"Yes, I am somewhat familiar with Tamran, capital of Nirmathas. It is a bit of a mess actually..."

21 K-History on a take 10. No self-buffing required for this roll. :)

Feel free to open the spoiler if you like. :)

"Indeed, I went through a belated confirmation with Janira back when we were both wet behind the ears. I'd have to say that if I wasn't assigned ot this mission, I'd probably set off alone if I had to. And I agree with Flint. If a high level operative disappears, you usually have to send high level operatives to find her. Although I do not like to assume, I would guess that the society has already pursued some low level of information gathering and now it is time to escalate."

know history, h awareness, heroism: 1d20 + 5 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (14) + 5 + 2 + 2 = 23

"I have heard of Tamran, but never visited. Isn't it practically a floating city?"

Theodric smiles but adds nothing else to this conversation, seeing that Venture-Captain Valsin was now fully aware of the situation and the disposition of the Pathfinders he'd assembled. This Zaarah woman was clearly mad, and did not appear to even want to go on this mission. Yet, Valsin was now ordering her to proceed, so perhaps his back was against the wall on this one and had to somehow integrate her in this rescue mission for reasons that were not made known to this team. Whatever the reason, Theodric hoped to Desna that perhaps the heat of battle would clear the woman's mind and set her focus towards solving the problem at hand. If not, this was yet another challenge to add to this mission's list of challenges so far, and the warm fires and wine of the Freedom Country Estates would be the more sweeter once this was all over.

Next to enter the room is a stooped and disheveled woman, with hair like a bird's nest and skin like sandpaper. Her clothes are stained and torn, and look as though they were not particularly flattering even when they were new and clean. Which by the looks of it was a long time ago. Green goop drips from her ears and a number of long knitting needles appear to be sticking out of her head. The very air in the room grows sour from the caked layers of dirt and sweat and blood that she has clearly never washed off over the course of her long elven life.

She stops, squints, and peers about the room, with eyes that reveal cunning intelligence, and perhaps not a small touch of madness. ”Ahh, Pathfinders is it? Of course it is, it always is, never a quiet restful moment for poor Agata, nooo, not her, poor old Agata, just wants to take a little nap here or there, but nooo, not her, no one will just let her be.”

Her speech trails off for a moment and it's possible that she is dozing, but she soons begins to ramble, perhaps talking in her sleep, perhaps merely reminiscing: Agata doesn’t remember how long she lived under the great bridge in Magnimar, but it seems to have been quite a while, even as elves such as her reckon time. But she vividly remembers the moment when the other denizens of the shadow underbridge finally decided that her hygienic “quirks” were beneath even their rather relaxed standards and drove her off, thus beginning her career as a reluctant adventurer. Eventually, she found that she could camp out on the veranda of most Pathfinder lodges without being disturbed, although it’s likely that the Pathfinder door wardens simply assumed that she was just another eccentric agent. Be that as it may, although she doesn’t exactly understand what the society is, or that she is viewed as a ranking agent by many, she does appreciate the wayfinder that somehow found its way into her possession, mainly because the stone that she put in it is “oooh pretty” and “sooo shiny…”

She rouses herself from her reverie and peers around the room once more. ”Aye, yer Pathfinders alright, I can tell by just lookin' at ya, there's a smell to ya don't ya know. Well, no doubt you'll be needing old Agata's help again, that's always the way of it, and that's fine, just fine. Just don't be expecting me to be one of yer fancy elves - I ain't no Elrond Hubbard, nor that Legoland neither - hmmph!” She scowls at the thought of pulling a bowstring.

”But where's me manners gone to?!? New friends we are, surely that's an occasion as fine as any for a bit o' the fine stuff. Mawd! Sweet Mawd! By Desna's Drooling Dentures, I'll toss her in my next cauldron if she's snuck off again. It ain't easy to find good help these days, and I ain't done it, that's for sure.” But then she is struck nearly dumb with a terrible memory. ”No, she ain’t lolly gaggin’ no more, that she ain’t. She’s done fer. That dern Speech o’ Gal Inspire! I’d curse the name o’ the place if it weren’t already plenty cursed! That were the end o’ poor ole Sweet Mawd, an’ bless me if she weren’t the finest maidservant a lady coulda askt fer!” A few tears roll down Agata’s prodigious shnozz; then she honks loudly and bellows even more ferociously: ”Junior! Sweet Mawd Junior! Where ye at, y’rascal? Why ye ain’t fit to wear that apron! Ain’t ye ashamed?!?”

Amidst this screeching, a beautiful face peeks shyly out of the tangled mass of Agata's hair, and a tiny winged figure in a maid's uniform soon emerges and quickly hurries to do her mistress' bidding. ”Snuff, plenty o' snuff for me and for me new friends, and be quick about it!”