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To have any chance of activating a scroll spell, the scroll user must meet the following requirements.
- The spell must be of the correct type (arcane or divine). Arcane spellcasters (wizards, sorcerers, and bards) can only use scrolls containing arcane spells, and divine spellcasters (clerics, druids, paladins, and rangers) can only use scrolls containing divine spells. (The type of scroll a character creates is also determined by his class.)
- The user must have the spell on her class list.
- The user must have the requisite ability score.
If the user meets all the requirements noted above, and her caster level is at least equal to the spell’s caster level, she can automatically activate the spell without a check. If she meets all three requirements but her own caster level is lower than the scroll spell’s caster level, then she has to make a caster level check (DC = scroll’s caster level + 1) to cast the spell successfully. If she fails, she must make a DC 5 Wisdom check to avoid a scroll mishap. A natural roll of 1 always fails, whatever the modifiers. Activating a scroll is a standard action (or the spell’s casting time, whichever is longer) and it provokes attacks of opportunity exactly as casting a spell does. If the caster level check fails but no mishap occurs, the scroll is not expended.
One painting that Lady Gloriana had commissioned is of herself, mustering troops on the edge of a battlefield. The other is of a pair of adventurers battling a towering dog-headed demon with four arms, two ending in pincers (). The pair are an elf and a tengu who look suspiciously like your own Elemenar and To-to-obika.
It takes a little bit of time to replace the paintings in the frames with your own paintings, but no one interrupts you (or really even notices your presence in this particular isolated causeway). There is still a third painting that must be dealt with (by erasure, defacing, or plain leaving-it-on-the-side-of-the-road).
There is also the matter of how you're going to walk this wagon up to the warehouse without arousing the suspicions of the warehouse workers. Even as you take the wagon and begin heading toward the warehouse, you still have a little bit of time to come up with a plan.
After using a scroll of erase to deface the last painting, the party places everything back in order in the wagon and makes its way toward the warehouse at the back of the Opparan Trade Commission.
As you approach the warehouse, you see a handful of laborers shifting various crates around. One, a stocky Taldan man with a strong jaw, looks up at your approach, then furrows his brows. "You don't look like the guards the boss hired. They call off 'sick' too? Don't blame them--boss's late paying everyone, seems." He sizes you all up. "Who're you?"
Aya launches into a skilled oration about the plight of the working class and how the Power of HORUS! can save them all, which, combined with Ki Chin's lie about quick jobs and gambling debts on the one hand and Aylanna's attempts to smooth things over with her silver tongue, mollifies the warehouse worker. He shrugs and mutters something under his breath, then returns to his work.
Free of further scrutiny, the party is able to haul the wagon inside and switch out the paintings.
Mercifully, the other warehouse workers aren't terribly astute, and there are no guards present. You are able to complete the task and slip out again. All that remains now is to observe the results of your handiwork. That, of course, involves going into the Opparan Trade Commission's front door and socializing with the guests before the unveiling commences in a short while. You do so without incident, and find yourselves in an opulent, if understated, gallery with a number of tables covered in fine linens and trays of hors d'oeuvres. A handful of maidservants and a butler or two move through a light crowd, trays carrying wine bottles and empty wine glasses in hand. A number of notable people seem to have gotten the invitation also, given the amount of finery on display.
A man and a woman in particular stand apart nearby, sipping on wine and speaking quietly to one another. The man is in his late sixties, obese and constantly sweating--he seems rather irritable, and makes a point of taking it out on a hapless maid who happened to spill some wine when refilling the man's glass. It didn't even spill on him, but rather on the tray, but that was enough to set him off.
"Really! Couldn't Lord Minovitas find an elven wench or two for this soiree? At least they are graceful!" he bemoans to his companion.
That companion, in turn, is a venerable and frail-looking old woman leaning on an ebony cane, a worn falcata rather incongruously at her side. "Yes, well, we mustn't be too hard on him. We all know that good help is hard to find. Besides, at least the lass isn't a Qadiran." She pauses to appraise the woman (who is not, in fact, Qadiran)--just to make sure. "Are you?"
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Elemenar scoffs. When the serving lady moves away he approaches the man and woman with his hands folded in front of him. "I see that you two take exception to the way that maid did her work. It's clear that you think you would do a much better job of it. If I have a chance to talk with Lord Minovitas directly, I will be sure to put in a good word for you. As you said, it's hard to find good work. I'm sure he'll be happy to employ such exceptional servers as yourself."
Elemenar nods then moves to another part of the crowd.
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Aya paused for a moment, but then talked to people aeons her.
“Unfortunately, I have heard troubling tales of Lord Minovitas's treatment of his ancestral lands and the people who call it home. His behavior has been described as exploitative, and there are whispers that he has silenced those who dared to speak out against him. It is important that we not only celebrate the achievements of those in power but also hold them accountable for their actions. Let us not overlook the darker aspects of Lord Minovitas's character simply because of his status. Instead, let us strive for a world where truth and justice prevail, and where the powerful are held to the same standards as the common folk!“ she says.
After a short while, three trumpeters play a fanfare and Lord Minovitas himself takes the stage.
"Welcome, esteemed colleagues and honored guests. On this historic day, the glorious Opparan Trade Commission is open for business! But it is not just commerce that we commemorate today; we also recognize the valor of several of the greatest heroes of our time who have fought in Mendev's recent crusade and pushed back the demon threat so that others might live in peace. Yet this was not accomplished alone, and in an alliance of nations we found our strength. With the establishment of this facility here in Absalom, the Commission hopes to continue this alliance and further promote fair and equitable trade to the benefit of all."
"With great honor, I dedicate this embassy to its founding members, whose esteemed accomplishments shall be forever commemorated by the work of the world-renowned painter, Amya Illanaf!" With that, Lord Minovitas gestures dramatically toward the paintings, as if expecting someone to unveil them for him. When that fails, he strides over to the first painting and theatrically whips off its cover while smiling to the audience. He repeats the action with the other paintings, and only with the third does he realize that something is off. He turns to look at the painting he had just unveiled (the one that displays an elf and a tengu fighting a dog-headed, four-armed demon) and fury rises on his face.
For their part, the crowd seems unimpressed by the speech and chuckles mildly at the pompous Taldan lord's expense. Lord Minovitas rushes off-stage, presumably to complain to his staff, without a further word.
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Shortly thereafter, Lady Morilla finds you in the crowd and gathers you all to a private room in a nearby tavern. She retrieves her silver raven figurine of wondrous power from you, and then takes a deep breath.
Exhaling, she says, "I'm appalled and disappointed that the same nobles who once opposed us now seek to steal our glory by claiming that creating the army was their idea. While I thank you for today's efforts to rebuke them, I fear they'll simply continue to perpetrate this fraud back in Taldor. Worse, should they succeed, it will only reinforce the 'do nothing' nobility and be another nail in Taldor's coffin. And if it's a coffin they're building, I refuse to be buried with them."
"This is not unique to Taldor, yet in other lands I have met nobles who have their people's needs in mind and greater vision of how to accomplish their goals. Rarely are these members of royal families, but many have their respective monarchs' ears. Rather than recreate the Taldan empire of old, we shall promote an enlightened aristocracy that promotes the virtues of strong, wise governance. I do not expect a response now, but I invite you to join me in this endeavor."
As she speaks, there is a quiet knock on the door followed by a woman saying, 'My lady sends her thanks." A sealed missive slides under the door, which Lady Morilla swiftly retrieves and secrets into a pocket in her petticoat to review later.
After Lady Gloriana pockets the note, she thanks you all again, and excuses herself to attend to other business. Left on your own, you filter out of the tea house and into the streets in search of further festivities. The remainder of the day passes uneventfully, and you all retire to your respective sleeping quarters.
The following morning, the final morning of the festivities, you rise, get cleaned up, and have breakfast. The announcement of the late councilor's replacement is today, and you make your way to an open-air amphitheatre in the Wise Quarter. By noon, a large crowd has gathered there, and the First Lady of Laws, an Osirian woman named Scion Lady Neferpatra of House Ahnkamen, steps out onto the stage. "People of Absalom, we know that you have all been waiting patiently for the deliberations for the late Councilor's successor to come to a close. Those deliberations are now ended, and we announce to you now that your new Councilor is Grint Basatrel. The late Councilor's diligent assistant, we all trust that he will carry on the great works his predecessor began," she announces.
The Osirian woman steps back, and Grint himself steps forward. He thanks Diobel and the High Council for their trust, and launches into an impassioned speech about both the past and about his hopes for improving relations between Absalom and its vassal cities. As he closes his speech, the crowd disperses to fit in a bit more festivities before the festival officially ends.
A blind-seeming beggar, easily recognizable after a few moments as Venture-Captain Drandle Dreng, sidles up to the party as the crowd disperses. "And so ends an election and begins a political career. I'm pleased that the High Council chose Grint, as he's amenable to working with the Society. It sounds like he's not the only one with friends in high places; I hear several of our close allies owe you their thanks, and they've already begun paying off that debt with a few presents delivered to the Grand Lodge with your names on them. Well done. The Society's strength is not measured by the enemies it defeats but by the friends it keeps."
With a concealed wave goodbye, Dreng stumbles off into the crowd once more, his alms bowl held high as he listens for more rumors of note.