Prelude
For generations, the Stolen Lands have spanned the southern border of Brevoy. Many attempts have been made to settle them, but to date, none have succeeded, making these 35,000 square miles of wilderness the largest swath of unclaimed land in the entire River Kingdoms. As tensions mount in Brevoy, one of Rostland’s swordlords hopes to change that fact; she plans to issue charters to several groups of adventurers, sending them south into the Stolen Lands to reopen old trade routes and defeat the bandits and monsters who have made them too dangerous to use. What role will you play in this endeavor?
24th day of Calistril 4710 AR
As our story begins, you each have answered Lady Jamandi Aldori’s “call for heroes” and arrived at her impressive hilltop manor. A cobblestone path, bordered by regal oak trees and well-manicured hedges, winds its way up the hill for nearly a mile, past a two-story guard barracks, the stables, and a dozen thatched-roof cottages that house the families of the manor’s servants and retainers. The manor itself is a sprawling, three-story structure constructed of light gray mortared stone, surrounded by hedge-lined rose gardens and ancient oak trees. There is a line of other adventurers outside the entrance to the Great Hall, waiting to be let inside. The sky above is gloomy, and distant thunder suggests a storm is imminent.
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Fenric unshoulders his pack to let it rest next to him as they arrive at Lady Jamandi's manor. "No shortage of competition," he says in a distracted murmur while eyeing the adventurers already gathered. "Expected given what is at stake."
He gazes at the sky and runs his hand through his brown hair. "Hopefully, the lady of the manor allows us inside before that storm arrives."
Quintessa looks around at the gathered adventurers, her brilliant blue eyes sparkling with curiosity and excitement despite the gloomy weather. It's been a long trip and she's extremely anxious, though she's doing a masterful job hiding it as long as you don't pay attention to the fact that she's chewed off a fair bit of her nails.
She stares at the other would-be heroes and responds to Fenric "Indeed, Fenric. It seems we're in the company of many ambitious souls today. A fitting turnout for such a grand call to adventure."
Turning to the seamstress, she offers a reassuring smile. She sweeps her hand down her outfit with a smile, proud of their collaborative work. Sure, Teela did all of the actual work and pricked her fingers countless times on the bumpy ride, but hey, Quintessa guided her design as they traveled. They made it together.
The outfit is a stunning blend of noble elegance and whimsical flair, embodying Quintessa's personality and artistic sensibilities. The dress features a deep, rich blue fabric adorned with intricate, multicolored, embroidered, swirling floral designs in vibrant shades of gold, green, and purple.
The bodice is fitted and elegantly structured, with detailed gold accents. The neckline is tastefully daring, balancing sophistication with a hint of boldness. Quintessa always enjoys touting the line between appropriate and questionable, after all.
The skirt is full and layered, designed to flow gracefully with Quintessa's movements. Teela layered the fabric to create a sense of depth and motion, making the dress appear almost alive with each step she takes.
To accompany the outfit, Quintessa wears a delicate headpiece with small blue gemstones wrapped around her opal-colored hair.
She glances up at the sky, a hint of concern crossing her face "I do hope Lady Jamandi values punctuality as much as we do. I'd rather not have Teela's masterpiece soaked before we even step inside."
Thark grunts audibly as Fenric points out the line of others waiting to enter the manor. "Gorum blesses us, not them. Keep your wits about you and things will go well for us. I can feel it." He fingers a small iron-blade medallion hanging from his neck. It's likely the most he's said since he bumped into the group on the way to the halls of Lady Jamandi.
He looks around the sumptuous surroundings with an air of discomfort. He is not used to the formal surroundings of nobles and others of the upper crust. He shrugs a little to himself, looking at his worn hides and tattered cloak especially compared to the finery that Lady Quintessa is arrayed in.
Fenric and Selina's garb is much more practical for an adventuring group, and he nods his silent approval, though some spiked metal armor might be more to his taste. They carry swords and weapons that Thark understands and approves of. The fancy young lady seems to have some other skills that Thark has yet to see. And the other girl, Teela, seems to be a servant of some kind.
"Are you a princess?" Thark asks Quintessa finally unable to contain it any longer. He seems to blush, if such a thing were possible with his green-hued skin tone.
The servant woman who shadows Lady Orlovsky observes the estate in contemplation. Her hair flows in waves like rows of dark chestnuts rolling down a distant hill only to end up below her shoulders and covering a loose scarf around her neck. Her visible eye is dark brown. Not matching her almond skin at all, a leather eyepatch covers the other eye. The patch might have been pitch black at one point but shows signs of wear and bleaching now.
Unlike Quintessa's garments, this woman's clothes are simple. Some would even say they are plain. Well made and well-fitting, but clearly with function in mind. The torso is layered and complimentary, but the legs and arms are loose and more flowy. Her boots, knee-high leather, had seen a few creeks and forests in their time. Despite the few scratches and bends, however, they are meticulously clean. She has three belts on her at the moment. One is slung over her shoulder, extending to her waist to support the weight of another belt of the same make that holds her belongings. The third one is just kind of there as an accessory. Various doodahs that should be on hand cling to her belt on little straps and hooks. A sheathed dagger. Not exactly a weapon of choice for most on the grounds, but she doesn't seem to mind. Two latched pouches made of hardened leather right next to it and a... rag doll?
Yeah. It's a rag doll, alright. Featureless, hairless, nothing on it at all. A blank canvas ready for the initial sketch and strokes of a painter. Meticulously clean, just like everything she wears. It's as if it was made just this morning.
She looks around the estate, her face slowly turning into one of astonishment. The conversation snaps her out of it. "This place is like a whole district in Silverhall. If rain starts now, we will be soaked by the time we reach the manor proper."
The humid wind picks up, and Teela uses her scarf to tie her hair in a ponytail. She wipes the back of her neck with her palm, removing condensed droplets. Back in reality, she looks at Quintessa. "Don't worry about the clothes. That can be cleaned up in a moment." she looks around the group. "I mean all of us. Just need to get under a roof or something."
Thark drops his comment and a gentle smirk flashes on Teela's face. She looks to Quintessa expectantly.
Selina smiles, as she walks through the manicured grounds of Lady Aldori's manor. The head of the Swordlords! She was going to actually meet her! In her five years of training, she had only seen her from afar at dueling school ceremonies. As she admired the grounds, Selina thought: one day, I could have a manor like this. I am on the road to making this happen. One step at a time.
She saw the competition waiting in line. Did any of them wield dueling swords? As she heard the thunder and storm approaching, Selina looked at her armor. "Hope this line moves fast, do not want my armor getting wet." She looked at Quintessa's dress and smiled. Selina was more a more form over function type of gal.
Quintessa offers a small genuine smile in response to Thark's question."A princess? No, Thark, not quite. I am merely a humble daughter of House Orlovsky, though I do appreciate the compliment. My family might expect a certain...presentation, but I assure you, beneath all this finery, I'm just as committed to our cause as anyone."
She slowly approaches the half-orc and places a soft hand on his rather large arm. "And Gorum's blessing will indeed see us through. Together," she sweeps her graze over her companions, "I'm confident we have strength, wit, and the will to succeed. And rest assured, I'm not completely helpless. My abilities and training may not be as visible as your strength and steel, but I can handle myself in a tight situation."
Unable to hide her amusement, Quintessa chuckles softly as she turns to Fenric.
"Indeed, I'll hold you to that promise. The families have been rivals in politics for so long; it's about time we showed them that cooperation can be just as formidable.“
”Who knows, perhaps they'll write songs about the noble houses of Orlovsky and Lodovka joining forces to conquer the Stolen Lands. A tale of unity and adventure, with just the right amount of scandal to keep things interesting."
She concludes with a wink ”Who doesn’t love a good scandal, after all?”
Teela clears her throat. "So, how exactly does this work? Is there a gauntlet run for the best time, a jousting tournament, some sort of battle of wits?"
She looks around. "That sure is a lot of people. Do we get bonus points for sneaking past the line or something?"
Quintessa smiles at Teela’s assertion of a jousting tournament. ”Though I’m sure Fenric is excellent on a mount, I’m afraid if we are required to joust for entrance that we may have made this long journey for nothing.”
She shakes her head at sneaking in, and dismisses it outright. ”No. We are expected and thus we will wait patiently to be called, Teela. There may yet be a time to vie for position or favor, but now is not that time.”
Selina looks around at her companions and comments almost nonchalantly, ”We’re probably one of the only groups here who’s predominantly female. That's rare nowadays, right?"
"Fair enough." Teela nods. "I trust that your familiarity with this kind of etiquette is above mine and will defer."
Responding to Selina's comment, Teela scans the crowd. "Oh, I wouldn't know. First time I'm at such a gathering. You do, uh... Fencing lessons, yes? No lady clients?"
Teela is obviously not a patient type. Definitely not when just standing around. The manages to stand still for 10 seconds before pulling out a small lute from somewhere and starts tapping the strings. She finds a gentle melody, and starts humming. She switches to lyrics after a short moment.
I once had a friend near Encarthan's Lake
Caring and gentle, he made my loins quake
We spent the moons merry and lie in the fields
And I thought perhaps I could make him some meals
So I gathered apples and made him some pie
I got a nice locket from him in reply
Once I thought that he would have some true class
My friend of two weeks tried to breach my...
She stops, and looks around. "Uhm... Not sure if this is appropriate. I'll take requests, I guess?" Teela shrugs.
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Fenric blushes and answers Selina's question with his best assumption, "For something like this? Probably not. Plenty of common folk would be interested in gaining land. I suspect that all sorts of unlikely partnerships stand among the waiting." He answers Teela's question next with more confidence. "Like Quintessa said, we were invited, but our reward was not guaranteed. Think of it like a race except that the path is also trying to kill you. So you are not far off by suggesting a gauntlet." He gives the seamstress a smile that does not reach his eyes.
Selina ponders the question, "Not many female clients in the dueling arts. But I am still a student and not a master swordswoman like our gracious host, Lady Aldori. I am excited to hear her offer." Selina pauses as Teela finishes her song. "You sing beautifully by the way."
At Fenric's comment, Selina raises an eyebrow. "I doubt the common folk were offered this opportunity. Unless my eyes deceive me, I do not see many farmers or merchants on the line. More like mercs and warriors and practitioners of the mystical arts, like our fine group."
Selina pauses to hear the rest of Fenric's discourse, wishing drinks were being served. "I hope it's not a gauntlet or free for all. I am sure Lady Aldori is more civilized than that."
Thark shrugs at Quintessa's reply to his forward but earnest question. "Well, Thark might call you Princess anyway. Thark is sure there is more to you than meets the eye. Just like all of us. eh?"
The grim half-orc nods at Teela's question and listens to the reply. If the group is expected, then the long line is a bit of a concern. He sighs a bit, especially looking at the weather. "Thark has been patient before, for a very long time. Will be patient again, but Thark does not like getting wet."
A close inspection of the half orc reveals iron manacles around his wrists and ankles, and a place where a chain might have bound those hands and feet together, but there is no longer a chain there. A significant grey-white scar covers one side of his face arcing from eyebrow to chin. He wears hide armor which is patched and worn in many places, but the armor does not fully hide scarred lash marks on the broad back and shoulders of the warpriest.
When Teela breaks out in song, Thark listens, his head cocked to one side. The humor of the song seems to be lost on him, but he seems impressed with her ability. "Songbird," he says with a distant look. "Thark likes songbirds."
"Not many female clients in the dueling arts. But I am still a student and not a master swordswoman like our gracious host, Lady Aldori."
Quintessa studies the woman, looking her up and down as if she were capable of judging her talent from a brief glance. "And why not? Perhaps you are the next Swordlord, Selina? Tell me, for long have you trained with the blade?"
"Well, Thark might call you Princess anyway?"
Quintessa feels a warm blush creeping up her cheeks at Thark's unexpected reverence. She isn't accustomed to being thought of as royalty, more often seen as the rabble-rouser, troublemaker, or arsonist of her noble house. She quickly seizes the opportunity to shift the focus, her voice light and playful.
"Songbird," he says with a distant look. "Thark likes songbirds."
"As do I, Thark. Let us take a moment to appreciate our true songbird here." She gestures toward Teela, "Without even trying, you've managed to lift our spirits even with this dreary weather looming over us."
"I wouldn't call her that in earshot of King Surtova,"
Quintessa’s smile and amusement fade instantly at Fenric’s words. The mention of the Surtovas serves as a stark reminder of the political tensions that constantly loom over her family.
Staring at the ground she grumbles in a very unladylike fashion "Yes, best not to stir those particular waters, even in jest.", her voice tinged with a hint of bitterness.
The Surtovas have already taken enough from Brevoy.
She takes a deep breath, pushing aside the dark thoughts. Looking at Thark, she forces a smile, as taught by her mother. Always be smiling; it's what ladies must do, even though it's more subdued than before. She stares into the distance past Thark, longing for her chance to get away from all of this.
There's a line of about 20+ other adventurers in the line in front of you. They run the gamut of warriors, barbarians, priests, and rangers, but none of the others carry dueling swords. There are others unarmored, whom you surmise may be spellcasters. The races are also aplenty with humans, halflings, gnomes, dwarves, and elves.
You continue your chatting for the next half hour, as you finally reach the front of line and your names are scratched off the list by a male noble in fine clothing holding a scroll and a fountain pen. You head inside the Great Hall as the first raindrops start falling, incrementally increasing as the drizzle becomes a torrential rain. The male noble smiles, "Looks like you made it just in time. Enjoy the feast!" The noble nods to the house guards and the doors to the Great Hall are closed. Two servants lead you to your table, where you observe the following scene.
Great Hall Scene
This spacious hall has been prepared for a great feast. Servants hustle and bustle about, while several armed soldiers—Lady Jamandi’s house guards—watch over the hall from their positions against the east and west walls. To the north, a fire crackles away in a large fireplace. An iron lever secured by a lock adorns the fireplace’s eastern face. Two massive crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling twenty feet above. The walls are decorated with painted murals of idyllic woodland scenes: nymphs frolicking amid waterfalls, satyrs dancing with fawns in wooded glades, and various winged fairy creatures flitting through the trees. Nine long tables are arranged around the central portion of the room, each holding plates, utensils, mugs, goblets, and full, ready-to-be-poured pitchers of ale, wine, mead, and water. The smell of roasted meat and other delicious scents fill the room, yet no food has yet been served.
Quintessa steps into the grand hall, her eyes widening with admiration as she takes in the ornate surroundings and the vibrant murals depicting scenes of nature. The sight of the nymphs and satyrs brings a smile to her face and she pauses for a moment, gazing at the images of nymphs frolicking amid waterfalls.
"Absolutely, Fenric, a nice warm red would be lovely, thank you." She thanks him for getting her some wine, whether he had intended his statement as an offer or not. "A good meal and a fine wine are the perfect start to this venture."
She turns to Teela, Selina, and Thark, and her smile is warm and inviting. In a warm voice, she beckons them to follow her and tries to ease any discomfort they might have about this environment. "Come, let us find a table and make ourselves comfortable. We deserve a moment of respite after our journey."
Thark understands Fenric is making a jest, but he doesn't really understand the reference as the noble, royal, and factional conflicts of Brevoy have never really entered his mind. So he stays silent.
Stepping inside the hall, he is briefly stunned by the size and opulence of such a place, never imagining himself inside. He notes there seem to be few if any half-orcs in the mix of others mingling about, but he is not surprised given the environment. The big man is clearly quite uncomfortable.
When Quintessa invites the group to enter and sit, Thark complies. "Yes, Princess." he says simply, following the noble woman to whatever table she selects. He sees Quintessa is troubled, but doesn't press it for now. He watches her though, to see how she reacts in this complex social environment.
Teela continues the chat outside, but as they enter the hall, she goes silent. She scans every individual through and through, but something seems to be left wanting. Despite that, there is a sigh of relief. After a while, she picks up a glass of wine and joins her companions at the table. She walks up to Quintessa. "Allow me..." she leans over to the dress, and goes over it by hand, removing remnants of rain and straightening out the fabric with a mere touch. She does that to everyone else, with their permission. "We should look presentable, yes?"
Once that is done, she sits and leans back on her chair, starting to put her feet on the table. She thinks better of it, and instead just crosses her legs in a casual pose.
"Wine's decent. Bit sour for my taste, but I can see the appeal." she comments indifferently. Not that she knows wine, but she tries to sell it.
She seems lost in thought for a moment before leaning onto the table. "Hey! A thought. Do these groups, uh, teams... whatever. Think they have names? Maybe we should brainstorm a handle or something? While we wait..." she raises her wine to her lips and a playful gaze jumps around the table from behind her glass as she sips.
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Fenric arrives at the table with a twist of goblets in one hand and a pitcher of wine in the other. He begins to deftly set the goblets before his companions. "Oh, you have one," he says and passes Teela over. When the seamstress mentions a name, he smiles and looks at Quintessa. "Is it not obvious? Quintessa's Quintet."
Quintessa watches Teela literally work magic on her outfit and restore it to pristine order. As she observes the seamstress work on the others, she remarks "My, my. You are full of surprises, aren't you now? What other hidden talents might you have?"
"Is it not obvious? Quintessa's Quintet."
Quintessa sips her wine and laughs softly at Fenric's suggestion. "Quintessa's Quintet? Well, it does have a certain ring to it," she says with a playful grin.
She raises her goblet, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "To our new venture, whatever name we choose. May our journey be filled with success, glory, and perhaps even a fair bit of adventure along the way."
Answering Quintessa’s question, ”I have studied the art of the dueling sword for the last 5 years. It is quite complex and even more so, since the male practitioners normally mix a blend of agility and physical strength. While in my lithe frame, I have focused exclusively on letting my speed and finesse do most of the damage. It has been an intriguing experience that I have enjoyed quite a lot, I must say.” Selina smiles, the pride in her art quite evident.
Inside the Great Hall, Selina marvels at the beauty and opulence. She sits down with the party, her eyes scanning the guards as they closed the doors, always fearing the worst. Selina brings the gods of wine to her lips, trying to detect any poison or evidence of foul play. Convinced that everything is legitimate, she joins in the toast and tastes the wine, realizing she is far removed from Varisia, but her paranoia is always around. ”Well said, Q, very eloquent. I second that.”
Teela almost spits her wine through her nose at Fenric's comment. She composes herself after a while. "Sounds like this band I heard playing once. Except they were Quincy's." she looks at the ceiling. "Oh, memories..." she muses and looks back at the table. "Anyway, I am not sure whether some D-list musicians are the best candidates for this expedition." she jests.
"Cheers to that." she raises her cup after Quintessa does her toast.
She clinks her goblet with her new friends, feeling a renewed sense of excitement for the journey ahead. After taking a long sip of the win, she smiles at Teela’s joke.
"Quintessa’s Quintet may need a better name, but it’s a start. And thank you, Fenric, for the vote of confidence in Selina. It’s clear we are surrounded by exceptional talent."
Quintessa sets her goblet down and turns to Selina, her curiosity clearly piqued by Fenric's praise.
"Your style of swordplay is truly fascinating to me." she begins, her eyes alight with interest. "I’ve always been intrigued by the art of self-defense, but my father forbade me from working with the men and their weapons. Would you be willing to give me some pointers? I'm not terribly strong or agile, but perhaps if we work together, it would be in our best interests."
Thark does not partake in the wine, but nods along with the sentiment of the toast. As Selina and Fenric discuss dueling swords, Thark interjects, "One need not be strongest to serve Our Lord in Iron and dispatch his enemies -- thought it doesn't hurt. Quickness of hand or mind also serves Him. I can see this in you, Selina. It is a blessing and Thark is glad to serve along with you. All of you," he adds nodding at the group.
Thark thinks about the line outside and this group's position in it. "What about Last to Arrive," he says with deadpan delivery. It's the closest to humor you have seen or heard from the usually dour cleric.
Teela thinks for a moment. "Alright. How about this. We use a placeholder for now. Something like..." she ponders a second more. "Lodovka-Orlovsky Compact? That sounds official enough." she shrugs. "And we will brainstorm something else later on?"
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After a few moments, he turns his attention back to Teela. He looks at the seamstress with an expression of thoughtful consideration before glancing at Quintessa.
"That delightful smell is making my stomach rumble," he comments with a grin and returns to frivolous conversation. "If they make us wait any longer, I might just go a-hunting in the kitchens!"
Quintessa narrows her eyes playfully at Fenric, adopting a more formal tone.
“Fenric Lodovka, you will do no such thing,” she admonishes with a smile. “We will wait patiently, as proper guests should. Besides, this may very well be a test of our patience and composure.”
She then turns to the rest of the group, her expression softening.
“We must show Lady Jamandi that we can handle whatever challenges come our way, even if it’s just waiting for a meal. “.
She sips her wine slowly, her eyes scanning the crowds gathered at the other eight tables.
Teela tilts her head as Fenric rests his gaze on her and speaks of smells. She pretends to straighten her sleeves as she discreetly sniffs her pits. She crosses her arms, and leans back for a short moment. Then she reaches for her glass again, confusion still on her face.
As the party starts to drink and engage in conversation, you notice a restless atmosphere starts to build up in the room. As you look around, you see numerous adventurer types seated around you. As you scan the other guests, you receive a few sneering looks of obvious disapproval from a purple-haired gnome dressed in fine silks and robes, who seems to be disgusted by the quality of adventurers gathered in the Grand Hall. You also hear complaints from a tall and muscular human woman, clad in a mix of animal skins, leathers, and battle-scarred hide armor. She wears a massive greatsword in a leather scabbard across her back. In a rough voice, she says"I'm hungry! Where is this Lady Whoever who called us together? These Aldori think themselves so fancy, but who are they anyway?"
Before you get to respond or react, the sound of a bell announces Lady Jamandi Aldori’s arrival. A striking half-elf woman enters the hall, followed by an aristocratic, middle-aged human man. The man wears finely tailored clothing, fit for a noble, while the woman appears dressed for battle. She wears a fine leather coat over a sparkling mail shirt, and at her waist hangs an Aldori dueling sword with a bright silver pommel. The two make their way to the head table, where they remain standing.
The man speaks first. “Greetings, heroes! I am Ioseph Sellemius, lord mayor of Restov. And this,” he gestures to the woman beside him, “is Lady Jamandi Aldori. We both thank you for answering her call for heroes. You may be few, but we need only the best for this great task.”
Lady Jamandi offers the room a broad smile before she speaks. “South of here, beyond Brevoy’s border, lie the Stolen Lands. This disputed territory has been claimed time and again by would-be settlers, but because the area has been a haven for bandits and monsters, it has never been held for long. Restov intends for this to change. If you have enough courage to drive off the dangerous denizens of the Stolen Lands, you can seize territory for yourselves and name yourselves baronesses or barons." She pauses for effect, as some of the adventurers raise eyebrows and smile upon hearing the proposition.
Lady Jamandi continues, "Restov intends to recognize the legitimacy of the new rulers of this land, and none of the other neighboring realms care enough to challenge you. We are prepared to provide backing as a trade partner and military ally. If you claim the land, you will have my—indeed, all of Restov’s— support!”
Lady Jamandi raises one of the goblets set in front of her on the main table. “But the details of your individual missions and charters into the Stolen Lands can wait. I raise my glass to you, brave heroes! For now, let us eat and enjoy the evening. Tomorrow promises to be a very busy day. Servants, please serve the meal!”
Her servants begin circle around the room, filling mugs with ale, fruit juice, or water and serving food from heaping platters.
Quintessa takes note of the restless atmosphere building in the room, her eyes scanning the various adventurers seated around them. She notices the sneering looks from the purple-haired gnome and the complaints from the tall, muscular woman. She maintains her composure, understanding that the gathering of such diverse and strong-willed individuals was bound to create some tension.
Just as she considers responding to the discontent around her, the sound of a bell announces Lady Jamandi Aldori's arrival. Quintessa's attention immediately shifts to the striking half-elf woman and the lord mayor accompanying her.
As Lady Jamandi raises her goblet and the servants begin to serve the meal, Quintessa takes a moment to process the information. The prospect of claiming territory and establishing a new rule is exactly what she had dreamed of. This was she had been dreaming of!
"This is a remarkable opportunity," she says quietly to her companions, her eyes alight with determination. "We must make the most of it."
Quintessa then raises her own goblet, echoing Lady Jamandi’s toast. She leans in to Teela and whispers "Raise your glass, Teela."
After the toast, she scans the room once more. "What do you make of the other adventurers? Perhaps we should mingle and see what we can learn from our competition? Let me see if I can identify anyone."
Teela observes the arrival and speech of the lord mayor and lady of the house. With her eyebrows raised well above their natural position, her mind is racing to imagine the implications of what was just said. Quintessa's nudge snaps her out of her torpid state.
"Yes? Oh..." she raises her glass as she stands up and scans the room once more. Knowing nobody, she shrugs and sips on her wine again. This time, however, she remains standing as she is getting ready to let the social chameleon out of the cage.
Thark watches the proceedings with some interest, but the Lord Mayor and the Lady Jumandi are mostly unknown to him. Instead he focus mostly on the other assembled adventurers and would-be explorers in the room, looking especially for any that show the symbol of Gorum or are half-orc (or more) by blood or display those characteristics.
Selina does her best not to fan-girl over Lady Aldori's riveting speech. At its conclusion, she lifts her goblet and toasts her as well, murmuring under her breath, "I will not let you down!" She then sits to enjoy the meal and mingle.
Thark and Selina recognize Lady Jamandi as one of the Aldori swordlords— a wealthy and influential woman who is one of Restov’s greatest warriors.
Besides knowing the above information, Fenric and Quintessa also recall that Lady Jamandi’s Aldori dueling sword trails magical fire when it strikes, and while she used to take jobs as a mercenary in the past, she
now focuses on tending to the needs of her manor, troops, and duties to Restov.
During the next 2 hours, Lady Jamandi's servants begin to circle around the room, filling mugs with ale, fruit juice, or water and serving food from heaping platters. The feast itself includes four courses in all: crisp greens lightly flavored with savory oils, spicy seasoned waterfowl, a main course of tender roast boar, and a finishing selection of fine desserts and cheeses. For the duration of the feast, the servants bustle about in their never-ending quest to keep mugs and goblets full and
take discarded plates away to the scullery.
You also notice the following adventurers who tend to stand out from the normal riff-raff. You note their names as they converse with the others around them.
Amiri - The aforementioned strong uncouth human female with the large greatsword on her back.
Harrim - A middle-aged dwarf priest with a bald head and a long, salt-and-pepper beard.
Jaethal - A deathly pale female elf who wears dark clothing. Her raven-black hair is long, and she has no jewelry. Leaning against the table next to her is a massive, wickedly sharp scythe.
Linzi- A young halfling woman wearing leather armor and a weather-worn cloak. She keeps a large leather-bound journal in front of her, into which she sketches profile images of everyone present at the table and scribbles occasional notes and verses for tunes.
Maegar Varn - A ruggedly handsome human male with a constant shadow of a beard on his jaw; he wears his dark gray hair in a small bun. He carries a distinctive sword that bears the crest of House Varn—four hatchets arranged in a circle—on its pommel guard.
Tartuccio - The aforementioned gnomish snobbish noble.
Valerie - A tall, exceptionally beautiful human woman with striking blue eyes and a warrior’s physique.
Quintessa takes note of the prominent figures among the adventurers, mentally cataloging their names and appearances. She leans closer to her companions to share her observations, making sure to keep her voice low and discreet.
"I think a divide-and-conquer approach would serve us well here. Let's mingle with the other participants and see if we can learn a bit about our competition."
She glances around the room, considering her options.
"I'll start with Maegar Varn. He carries the crest of House Varn, and it might be useful to understand his intentions and capabilities."
"Thark, perhaps you could strike up a conversation with the dwarf priest, Harrim. You two might be able to have a conversation pertaining to the gods. And Selina, maybe you could talk to Jaethal, the elf with the scythe. Teela, you might find Linzi interesting—she seems to be documenting everything. An aspiring artist, perhaps. Fenric, you might want to keep an eye on Amiri or Valerie, but both seem like they could be quite formidable allies or opponents."
"Let's regroup here in twenty minutes and touch base."
With a nod of determination, Quintessa rises from her seat and makes her way toward Maegar Varn. As she walks over, she quickly casts a spell to help ensure she gets off on her best foot, trying to guide her attempt at an introduction. She approaches him with a warm smile and introduces herself.
"Good evening, Maegar Varn. I’m Lady Quintessa Orlovsky. It's a pleasure to meet you."
She sips her wine and continues, attempting to make some political small talk.
"I couldn't help but notice your sword bearing the crest of House Varn. House Varn has always played a pivotal role in Brevoy's history. I heard there have been some recent skirmishes in that area, with tensions rising between local warbands and Brevoy's forces. How has House Varn been managing these challenges?"
Skill in the art of conversations with noblemen, she pivots her conversation topic depending on how Maegar responds to her statements.
Thark's first interest is to the savage woman with the over-sized greatsword. She appears to be powerful and brutal, a world he is familiar with. But when the Princess suggests he should speak to the Dwarven cleric, he turns to inspect that fellow with an audible grunt. He first looks at the cleric for some outward sign of his patron deity, and if he spies it, he enters the conversation using that gambit.
"Our Lord in Iron blesses this venture Dwarf. Does your god also give his blessing? Tell me more about that god."
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Fenric sniffs softly as Quintessa instructs his choice for conversation. He considers following her to Maegar just to spite her but instead makes his way to the tall, blue-eyed woman whose name he learns is Valerie.
"Greetings," he says with a slight bow. "My name is Fenric. I fear that I do not recognize you--please do not take offense--this leads me to guess that you are unaffiliated with any of the major houses. Do I err in my judgment?" He tries to draw the woman into small talk to tease out her preferences.