|
I can make an honest attempt at opening up trade relations - I do have a controlling interest in profitable routes between Absolom and northern Garund after all. Something that occupied me much more in the past than it does today, albeit the possibility of trade with the Red Mantis is fascinating.
If it's possible to disguise me as a simple merchant, please do. The rest of you can be my retinue. If not, adventurers looking for work are common the world over.
Of course, Master, your will is my order.
Says the Devil in disguise after Tamerius commands them to make them look like merchants.
The devil calls his magic and "transforms" the Pathfinders into merchants and bodyguards.
|
As Flyn wears no armor and his efficient quiver has a compartment for his bow, he will pose as a member of Quenly’s entourage; a lesser merchant that assists with linguistics and general knowledge of the people and places his master might negotiate with…
He takes a moment to get accustomed to his new looks before following Quenly to meet the customs official…
|
|
Quenly, his dragon disguised as a pet bird and hidden on the ship's deck, approaches the official.
"Good day. I am a merchant seeking profit, and I hear that Ilizmagorti offers opportunities not to be found elsewhere on Golarion. Would you direct my associates and I to the city's import and export brokers, sir? I have brought no cargo on this journey. I prefer to establish trading relations in person and I am particular about choosing my partners, you understand."
"Very good, sir." The official readies a quill, hovering the tip over the heavy ledger in his other hand. He stares at Quenly with professional detachment that nearly borders on boredom. "May I have your name and that of your companions? The markets are open and I'm sure you will find many opportunities there once we are done."
I'm Dave says smiling the devil.
"Of course, sir." The quill scratches out the names as 'Master Jacinth' rattles them off. "Your cooperation is appreciated. You may go now." The officials expression does not change as he looks up the boarding ramp past the party, waiting for the next passenger to depart.
As you make your way to the end of the docks, it becomes quickly apparent that the city is on high alert. Teams of red armored guards walk the dockside, stopping random individuals for questioning as they patrol. It appears wherever you need to go, getting there unnoticed will require some guile, or further fast talking if unsuccessful.
|
|
Noticing the red armored guards, Flyn sends a mental message thru Quenly’s dragon to his comrades. Think they know we’re here, somehow; probably good that we’re disguised. We need to find word of where this Stanton Strake fella lives; the best place to find the whereabouts of a retired pirate would likely be the nearest pub, methinks. You folk are better talkers than I so I think I’ll try to avoid the patrols…
Flyn will subtly cast blend and keep an ear out about the docks, and later the pub, for any talk about Strake…
…and blend in with the surroundings when any patrols come in sight…
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Flyn is able to move through the crowds on the dock without the need of magic, blending into the press thanks to the illusion magic cast by 'Dave'. As he listens to the conversations around him, Strake's name catches his ear.
"Is that party still going on? The one at Strake's place?"
"Of course it is! It's been going on since he landed here and built his villa."
"I heard he lets anyone in, so I thought I'd see if the rumors were true. How do I get there?"
"You head over to the Dandy district and look for the ships run aground, you can't miss it!"
|
|
Not taking long to hear news on Strake, and lots of it, Flyn gets the idea the man is quite popular on this island…he soon mentally lets his companions know of Strake’s location…
Got his location…appears Strake runs a nonstop party at his villa in the Dandy district..considering the urgency of our mission, perhaps we should head there straightaway?
|
|
I did not expect to encounter such frivolity in this city Quenly broadcasts with a wry smile.
I cannot help but anticipate some ulterior motive at play here. Still, you can't have a party without a party. So unless anyone is overly keen on seeing what the Red Mantis are selling, let us be on our way!
Dave can give us more suitable 'clothing' for festivities, yes?
Leaving the docks, you find the city much like any other haven from more lawful nation states, even if just in appearance. Perhaps half an hour passes as you find the quality of estates markedly improve, signaling your arrival in the Dandy district.
Four sleek pirate ships have been run aground to form walls around a cozy stone villa, arranged in a square, with added planks forming them into a solid defense. An open gate carved through the center of one hull provides entry to the garden beyond.
No guard stands before the gate, allowing you free access to the party beyond. Food and drink fill long tables, replenished by liveried servants in pirate affectations from the residence in the back. The garden hedges are landscaped into roiling waves and even sport miniature sailing ships among their leaves.
While dozens of guests are in attendance, the unease of the gathering is palpable, as conversations appear muted and what mirth can be heard is not full throated and free. Most of the looks you catch seem directly to an aged but still devilishly handsome human man seated at the feasting table. He appears to be polishing a fine shoe with careful attention. Some distance away, a grizzled man sporting an eye patch that seems more authentic than the costume of the servants stands, also wearing the colors of the house. Attended by a coterie of hangers-on, two finely dressed women, a green haired elf and human, laugh with the air of the pleasantly inebriated. Another human woman pulls deep from a mug, the picture of reckless abandon with tangled hair and well used blade hung at her hip.
|
|
Flyn will head to the refreshment table, pour a glass of wine and chew on a couple of cheese cubes while he surveys the crowd. Seeing the green-haired Elf lady and gentleman, he figures they’d be the best for him to start with…
He approaches, gives a friendly smile and bows. ”Mae govannen, m’lady, m’lord; Fred, at your service…
“Excuse the interruption, but I was in Kyonin with my master, a while back, and picked up a little Elvish; seeing the lady here, I thought it might be a good time to test out a phrase or two…”
He tries to get a read on the couple with their response…
…and then continues…
”We have but just arrived here; I overheard of the ongoing party hear and we came straightaway as my Master thought it might be a place to mingle, perhaps get some leads on trading contracts…
“Since I am new here, I would like to talk with you about local customs and culture, if you can spare the time; I know but the little I could research before our arrival…
“…but first I must ask, if you please…most of the partygoers here seem uneasy…can you tell me why? And why is everyone looking strangely at the man polishing his shoes?”
Tamerius can easily tell from the comings and goings of the serving staff that the eyepatched man bears seniority, but is not above concerned glances at man seated at the head of the table. The rest of the staff are less adept at hiding the glances, while the guests appear to be more casually avoiding impolite stares.
"My goodness, Origent, someone with a little culture has come around!" The elven lady places a hand on her companion to steady herself. "My name is Jaxira Darlamir, such a pleasure to meet you. This is my dear friend Origent Gamaron."
The finely appointed other woman nods in acknowledgement. "Mister Fred, we are overjoyed to greet you as a new friend. I would encourage your employer to take in a performance at the Nymphaleum while he is in town, we have quite the clientele to hobnob with between the performances. As for the unfortunate aura this day, ah..." Jaxira is quick to pick up the faltering answer.
"The evening was quite wild last night, so I don't properly recall every last detail, but Master Strake had unusual guests last night when that massive palanquin, carried by fifteen men, came by the gates. I couldn't keep track of everything, but when I saw him after midnight, he just wasn't his usual rowdy self anymore!"
|
|
”Jaxira, Origent, it is a privilege to meet you…the Nymphaleum, you say? Sounds like a great time…do both of you perform there? Yes, yes, I’ll tell my Master, I’m sure he’ll approve, looking forward to it…”
Hearing about the previous evening, Flyn arches an eyebrow. ”A massive palanquin…how exuberant…the owners must be quite rich. What kind of unusual guests did it carry? Was one of them a gnome? My Master was also hoping to cultivate an acquaintance with an eccentric old gnome lady that we heard sometimes visits with Master Strake…”
"I am the art director of the amphitheater, yes." Origent confirms, touching Jaxira's shoulder as she continues. "Jaxira manages the parks of the Songbird Preserve, no less important than my own efforts in the arts. There are so many species at risk, her work provides them safe haven from extinction!"
Jaxira smiles, slightly unfocused before catching herself and turning back to Flyn. "A gnome? No, no, the only gnome I can recall visiting is Fiseen. Strake said he consults with her on historical matters, but it's been years since her last visit. Always dressed for the wilderness, those rare times I've seen her. Maybe he can arrange a meeting?"
"Lovely old dear, unlike the rumors I hear about that particular palanquin." Origent adds.
|
|
Flyn nods enthusiastically. ”Then I’d like to visit both the amphitheater and the Songbird Preserve; I like to dive into new cultures on visits, whenever time allows…
“Fiseen, you say? I’ll tell my Master and he can consult with Strake, much appreciated…”
Upon her mention of rumors, Flyn furrows his brows in interest. ”Indeed? I am intrigued; can you elaborate a bit more on these rumors?”
"It gives me the chills just thinking of it. Not everyone has heard, but they say it belongs to the Master of the Pagoda of the Red Mantis." Origent's voice lowers, causing all to lean in to hear. "He arrived years ago from a distant land to worship the Mantis God. Some say the Master is not human at all, but rather a terrible creature covered with hundreds of watchful eyes. There have been others that act like Master Strake, entering the pagoda and emerging changed. Rumors say there is a great hall below ground, where prisoners are kept full of different memories."
|
|
Quenly - or Master Jacinth for the while - marks the appearance and behaviour of Strake and the devilish man, but first approaches the human roustabout.
"Good-day miss" he smiles at the drinker. "You seem to be the only one really enjoying herself here. It's not quite the revel I was anticipating."
Quenly watches her lips - but the "parrot" on his shoulder relays her speech to him telepathically in any event.
"It certainly isn't, but a stiff drink makes up for a lot, especially when it's free." She brushes her hair back absently and gives Quenly an appraising look. "Names Luna, most call me the Wild. Who might you be stranger?"
|
|
Flyn nods as Origent relays the details of the rumor. ”Ah, very mysterious…and interesting…my thanks to you…”
Glancing over towards Strake, Flyn ponders but a moment before continuing. ”Alas, my wine glass is empty; I had best imbibe some more of this excellent wine and sample more of the local cuisine before my Master is ready to pay his respects to our host. It has been my pleasure meeting and conversing with such charming ladies; thank you for indulging me. I look forward to meeting you again, m’ladies…perhaps at the Nymphaleum, later this week?” He smiles and bows as he departs…
He mentally projects via Quenly’s dragon to his companions as he walks back to the refreshment table. Something odd happened here last night…and rumor is it affected Strake…I’ll await for Quenly to finish his conversation before paying our respects to Strake…we should probably do that together…
Luna sighs heavily, swirling the dregs of her drink at the bottom of the mug. "Seems my star has faded quite a bit in retirement if merchants no longer fear it enough to pass on warning."
Tad picks up much of the general mood around the party, but doesn't notice anything more specific.
"...I look forward to meeting you again, m’ladies…perhaps at the Nymphaleum, later this week?” He smiles and bows as he departs…
"Of course, Mister Fred. We will be sure to provide you and your master an excellent seat in the house." Origent promises, raising her glass in farewell.
"You walk into a pirate's revelry, don't recognize his greatest rival, and think to find good relationships?" Luna throws her head back and laughs. "I can respect your boldness, Master Jacinth. It takes a special kind of merchant to ply trade here. What goods are you looking to procure 'opportunities' for in such a lawless town?"
"And who better to know of less than above board traders than a pirate? Fair enough, Strake is certainly an option. You won't be getting much out of him today however, the way he is now."
"No. The man with the shoe IS our illustrious host."
"Doane the Stubborn, Strake's old first mate. He's probably even more tight-lipped than usual with things setting him on edge. Can't blame him with priests of the Red Mantis visiting the party."
Luna shakes her head with a grim look. "Being on favorable terms with the Claws of Achaekek is no easy or stable thing. They're absolute fanatics, said to have given up their speech and hearing, only communicating in a secret sign language. Two of them showed up last night- ye never see them alone, like two arms of the same insect- and hung about for perhaps half an hour. Finally handed Strake a letter, where I'd never seen him balk at mortal peril, this had him white as a bleached sail."
|
|
"Fascinating. My thanks, Luna the Wild. If you should ever be in the market for antiquities and artifacts of rare provenance, seek me out."
Quenly raises a glass with the roustabout and bids her farewell.
Well now, shall we share what we have learned? Quenly broadcasts to the pathfinders via his "parrot".
The man with the shoe is our host, Strake. He had visitors just last night, from the church of Achaekek. They gave him a letter, and he's been in foul mood ever since.
Eyepatch is Strake's former first mate, Doane. Looks like he's still an ally, but that doesn't necessarily mean that he's an ally of ours.
We'll have to contrive a private audience with Strake. Or we could simply communicate with him telepathically.
|
|
Fin responds in the same manner…
Think I know why; got some intel from the nice artsy couple. A massive palanquin also arrived last night. It belonged to the Master of the Pagoda of the Red Mantis; some say the Master is not human at all, but rather a terrible creature covered with hundreds of watchful eyes. There have been others that act like Master Strake is acting now, entering the pagoda and emerging changed. Rumors say there is a great hall below ground, where prisoners are kept full of different memories.
Think I also got a lead on Eylysia; the ladies told me Strake consults with an old gnome named Fiseen on historical matters, but it's apparently been years since her last visit. Always dressed for the wilderness, the rare times they saw her. They said Strake could likely arrange a meeting with her…
If the rumors about the Master of the Pagoda are true, Strake might not be able to tell us anything…but I agree, we must try to talk with him…
|
|
Yes, the Gods have shown me this creature Quenly informs the pathfinders. A hyakume, an aberration that manipulates memories, stealing them and transfering them to others. Perhaps the cause of Strake's ill humour. A Break Enchantment spell is an effective remedy, and I have a wand bearing the spell, though I do not know if it will be powerful enough.
It is time we speak with Strake. I will initiate conversation telepathically, unless any of you have further insights.