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"Oh! So the formalities are over." Abdara stops orating, looking disappointed that she doesn't get to confront the local leader of the Cult of the Dawnflower. "You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here, eh Sheikh al'Hakam?" The bard sighs searching for a way to make the most of what's left of the evening. "I bet Venture-Captain Esmayl Ibn Qaradi has some wicked stuff locked away in his liquor cabinet back at the Lodge." "And maybe we can go out later and see what Katheeran night life is all about?"
“But what of the assassin and his foul employer, Trade Prince?” Abdara draws her wand of CLW and recites a short verse for Aaqir al’Hakam. And Zarmina's spirit, raging for revenge,
“Mambo Nuray’s connection to Umut Tepemkau and Princess Zarmina seems a little tenuous.” Abdara's criticism of the necromancer’s plans is scathing. “And it was certainly a lot of work for little gain.” “But whatever … We’ve wasted enough time on this mad woman’s schemes.” She gestures back to the villa. “Let’s hope this wasn’t a distraction to keep us from protecting the other guests.” "Who suggested it, anyway?"
“I am Almaas Kargar of the Pallid Princess’ Darkmoon Coven.” “My order was recently destroyed by the Pathfinder Society after our Abbess’s plot to infect the local human and fey populations with Red Drip was discovered before we had the chance to frame the Darkmoon Lumber Consortium.” Abdara sighs. “I was given the choice of death by drowning or the chance to join the Pathfinder Society.” “I do not regret the choice. I have encountered many of the Sisters of Lady Despair inside the Dark Archive faction, and have found the Society surprisingly tolerant – protective even – of our dogma and practices. Provided none of their own are harmed and the relics they seek are recovered, any collateral damage is of no concern to the Decemvirate.” The bard makes an open gesture with her hands. “It’s obvious you have lost this battle, but that does not automatically mean your demise. Give us the information we require about your employer(s) and their goals and I may yet be able to organize the same opportunity for you that I was given in Darkmoon Vale.”
“She can talk and valk, right?” “Mm ... She’s probably smart enough to do that.” Abdara shrugs and waits for everyone to indicate they’ve finished healing. “Cade, can you please keep control of her? Applying manacles or rope to her wrists and arms might help. Unfortunately, I didn’t bring any to the Wake.” Once Cade has signalled he’s ready, Abdara will apply just enough CLW ✨taps to bring WiB™ back to consciousness.
“You’ve got it, Cade. Take away her shinies and she can’t touch us – not that she was much of a threat in the first place, mind.” "What do you think she was doing out here? Just disturbing more bodies? Or could she also be looking for something?" “Not sure. Hanging with her friends, mebbe?” Abdara grabs the WiB’s jaw between finger and thumb and shoves her face from left to right as if that might provide a clue about her role in all of this. “Could be a rendezvous with her employer, but I’d bet she was raising more troops to go after the Wake’s survivors.”
“What the heck is a symptom kit?” Abdara drops her bardic performance and starts going through the false-cleric’s gear. “UGH! I had no idea such a thing existed. Gross!” The bard confiscates her unholy symbols and spell component pouch, before stripping her of her armor, dagger and bladed belt, casting them aside with little ceremony. The noble also checks the necromancer’s skin professionally for tattooed unholy symbols or either identifying marks. “Raelene, do you want to stabilize her while we figure out what we’re doing with her?” Abdara hands the scroll and potion of CLW to Ferdrin. “Drink this, Freddy. No, not the scroll!” She hands the scimitar gift, gems and pouch of silver dust to Raelene before commenting, “I’ll leave the potion of darkvision for Human Monk, Cade and Freddy to fight over.” “Do let me know if you need some more healing.” Abdara resets her CMW wand in her wrist sheath, and digs her wand of CLW out of her clutch. “So what now? We were sent to the graveyard to find out who was behind the zombie assassination attempt, right? I guess we need to wake up our friend here and find out, huh?”
Good name in man and woman, Dear Sarenrae,
Who steals my purse steals trash; 'tis something, nothing;
“Goodness me, WiB®” Abdara shakes her head sadly. “You have stolen the Dawnflower’s good name, and attempted the same of Metella Rauger, Temel Passad and the Pathfinder Society.” “Your victims shan't let you escape with them.”
“Fine work, Brakkik! We should be able to take her unholy symbol(s) away from her before she bleeds out. Unless Raelene has a stabilize orison prepared?”
“Freddy, I am not ignoring you. Applying the triage system, Human Monk is ahead of you in the order Ollysta Zadrian espouses.”
Cayden backwards on a donkey naked! Lady Ollysta’s another Sarenraen in this mental caper! Abdara threads her way 30 feet around the battle to avoid an AoO from the undead, before ✨tapping Aldar. "The skellie's immune to cold. Hit it with bludgeoning weapons if you've got them."
She looks back over to check the arcanist. “Freddy, at your present distance, you’ll probably be fine for the rest of the fight. I’m going to stay with Cade and Human Monk to make sure they’re alright.” “I mean, I cannot have Human Monk checking out before learning his Everblooming name.”
“Thank-you, Raelene!”
With the Sarenraen providing her soul with some metaphysical chicken soup, Abdara looks to the return the favor, striking Brakkik’s shoulder with her healing ladle.
"Urgothoa aid me!" "Urgothoa? That’s a funny way to pronounce 'Sarenrae.'" Abdara can’t see the skeleton yet, but with mention of the pallid princess, she has no doubt undead are on the way. “With Raelene and I healing, some termination with extreme prejudice would be helpful, team.” “We can always bring the most confused cleric I’ve ever met back once she’s dropped.”
“Brakkik, you can still move, right?” With the flick of her wrist, Abdara’s spring-loaded wrist sheath puts her wand of CMW directly into her right hand. “If I don’t heal Freddy this round I’m afraid we’re going to lose him.”
“Remember if you can put a solid structure between yourself and the cra-cra one, her negative channelling bursts shouldn’t affect you. I can try to reach you with healing next time.” “Also we need to drop that b!tch now! Maybe it’s time to bring the bombs out?” The noble turns a worried face to Raelene. “How many channels have you got left, Raelene?” “If we don’t start healing, I fear we’re going to lose someone.” Abdara marches 30 feet to the east and hugs the wall.
“I’m fine with checking out the cemetery.” Abdara ponders the exchange between Metella and Temel Passad, before speculating to the party once they’re out of earshot of non-Pathfinders and Sheik Aaqir al’Hakam. “I don’t buy those two sending death squads after each other. I’m thinking a third party is behind it – perhaps Jakti al’Awar?” She shrugs and follows the frontline. “I suppose we may find a clue in the graveyard.” “Did you notice anything unusual about that holy symbol, Raelene?”
Unsure of Metella’s exact condition, Abdara takes no chances ✨tapping the dwarf twice with her wand of CLW.
The noble pulls a vile containing a sickly green fluid from her clutch. “Please take my antitoxin, Madam Rauger. It should help fight any residual poison in your system.”
"This is... surprising. What's the assassin doing with a holy symbol of Sarenrae?" “May I have a look at that please, Cade?”
“I have antitoxin in my purse, Brakkik. Unfortunately, I am too far away to be able to administer it this time.” Frustrated that the distance from Metella prevents her from doing what she wants, Abdara advances thirty feet, her bardic performance providing the next best thing. “However, I also have ✨saving finale.”
“These zombies appear tougher than usual. Though slashing weapons will still deliver damage against them the most efficiently.” Abdara stands her ground and ✨casts cacophonous call against the assassin.
:
“If someone can identify the race of our stabby, masked friend I’d appreciate knowing it.” Abdara fishes in her clutch, before withdrawing her wand of CLW.
“Hopefully that wasn’t the potted palm I watered with dwarven ale, Brakkik.” Abdara reaches back over the railing to haul the alchemist to his hind legs and then over the railing by his collar. She releases him as a couple of Biters get too close, drawing her dagger and pointing out her target. “I'll try the Crawler that looks like it was half-melted to the road -- perhaps by a fireball?”
Abdara looks doubtfully at the physiques of Brakkik, Ferdrin and Raelene, before her eyes rest on Aldar. “I vote to follow Human Monk.”
Abdara grabs a hold of Brakkik’s shoulder, pushing off the trap-breaker to bound over the railing, and down the stairs.
“Wisdom can hide behind a hairy face. So can strange monsters”:
“One vote to protect Metella Rauger! I’ve also been considering the possibility of doppelgängers amongst the guests, and/or Trade Prince Aaqir al’Hakam’s household.”
Is an accountant worth that much debt to Aaqir? I guess we find out. "Mm ... we can but put it to him, Freddy. I’m sure the Trade Prince will work out what's best for both himself and the Society."
“Of course, you may seek to protect everyone in the manor, and I would applaud you for such commitment to righteousness!” Abdara bows at al’Awar’s comment, but doesn’t interrupt his speech. The man utters ‘righteousness’ in discourse that emphasises his own selfishness. Nevertheless, his ignoble goal of self-preservation doesn’t currently conflict with our own objectives. Abdara nods demurely, making agreeable noises while waiting to see if one of the others has better insight.
“The handful of dust functions as dust of dryness.” Having already ceased her bardic performance, Aeliah gathers the dust in a delicate lace handkerchief monogrammed with an A and the House Kastner crest, before standing to examine the contents of the Trade Prince's pouch. “Has the false-Umut been found, Sheik al’Hakam? Were any of the VIP guests injured?” If nobody objects, she slips the bead of force into her clutch. “At least I’ll be able to contribute physically in combat with this.” She offers the scoll of endure elements to Raelene and the scroll of see invisibility to Ferdrin. "Don't much like the implication that comes with that scroll, Freddy." She then takes the scroll of cure moderate wounds and ✨casts it on Cade.
”I believe both Raelene and I have wands of CMW that will be more effective in combat than a single scroll.” She then removes all non-lethal damage from Brakkik and Cade with her wand of CLW.
"Raelene, it might pay to remove the fatigue and exhaustion from Brakkik and Cade before we proceed. If you are concerned about depleting your wand of lesser restoration, I can offer you a scroll of five lesser restoration spells at the beginning of our next mission together." Finally, she returns her attention to Aaqir. “So what is the next step? Is Zarmina's body still to left lying in state per Sarenraen funeral doctrine?” “Should we be on hand to guard it and the guests, hunt for the false-Umut, or do something else?”
Abdara maintains her bardic performance to inspire courage, before moving 15 feet to the east where she readies an action to ✨cast grease under the Mummy, if it is still up after Brakkik and Raelene have their turns.
“Zarmina is now a desiccated mummy. Unlike typical mummies, she’s surrounded by sweltering winds which absorb moisture.” Abdara frowns as she tries to recall what she knows about them. “Anyone within 30 feet of it who fails to resist takes nonlethal damage, and can become fatigued –– eventually to the point of exhaustion.”
She calls a warning to the Trade Prince. “Sheik al’Hakam, please have any unengaged guards detain Grand Mufti Umut.”
“Well, Raelene is very knowledgeable went it comes to matters of religion, Cade.” Abdara adopts a big sisterly tone. “I totally believe her.” “Speaking of knowledgeable people, what impresses everyone the most about Metella Rauger?”
:
“What is Metella’s current disposition towards Aaqir al’Hakam, and by proxy, to the Pathfinder Society?”
"This is a sad hour. A great Qadiran life has come to an end. Her Highness won Casmaron’s respect with her shrewdness, and its delight with the wealth that followed." "She had the confidence that comes with competence, the strength that comes from many allies, and the humor that comes with wisdom. She leaves behind a vast trade empire that few others could have conceived, let alone created."
Abdara perceives nothing that the others haven’t already uncovered.
“We are all fortunate that Princess Zarmina Bahjari lived to an age where she had the time to apply her great wisdom and business experience for the benefit of all her clients -- ALL of us.” “The scimitar we present as her funerary gift does more than represent the sharp wit of the Princess. For she also demonstrated how negotiation with valuable partners like Andoran, the Five Kings Mountains and Druma, requires temperance and patience in all things. These are the hallmarks of the Dawnflower, who preaches enemies should be redeemed where possible – for like Taldor of Olde, they may become future trading partners!" "Yet for those who have no interest in doing right, Sarenrae's doctrines preach swift justice delivered by the scimitar's edge. Justice to uphold agreements and defend the Satrapy’s interests, the Princess enforced when necessary.”
"I must admit, despite your ... directness, you appear to be well connected. I will look favourably on what arrangements you propose." "I can't ask for fairer than that, darling." Abdara hesitates before adding, "Forgive me, but someone with your experience must have thought of re-financing with another patron whose lending terms aren't as ... suffocating?" "There are chaps here with deep pockets that don't literally worship money you know. People like you who still get a thrill from building a business, watching it succeed and celebrating the flow-on effects to everyone involved." "And if it's existing contract terms you're concerned with, why the Qadirans have some of the best legal minds this side of the Second Layer of Hell."
Abdara's brow knits in dismay at the ratfolk's initial confusion, though she raises her ale mug with a smile to him once he's worked his own brand of magic. ⚗ ♫ She drinks a whiskey drink, she drinks a vodka drink
Abdara gildes into the space between Cade and Doritannia Farrella, threading her arm through the halfling’s as she addresses the merchant. “Oh do buck up, darling.” “You are turning this whole funeral into such a downer.” Abdara *giggles* before offering her unoccupied hand to the Taldan. “Abdara Kastner. I don’t believe we’ve met. But honestly, that storm was just bad luck. You’ve been doing everything right, took a calculated risk, and lost -- this time.” Abdara makes a dismissive wave. “If a storm blows you over once or twice, just make sure you get back up thrice.” She takes a sip of her dwarven ale, makes a face and pours it away in a convenient potted palm. “If the great Taldan General Arnisant had given up after his first loss of the Shining Crusades, you and I would never have been born. Our great-great-grandparents would have been zombie-fodder in the Whispering Tyrant’s army. More stylish zombies than average I'll grant you, but members of the Walking Dead all the same." “Find that Taldan stiff upper lip, darling. It’s not like drinking’s going out of fashion, and there are plenty right here that are impressed by your business acumen AND your courage.” “A business partner with deep pockets could reduce the financial risk for you going forward. Trade Prince Aaqir al’Hakam might be interested. The Market seems to think he’s on the way up, and you know how thirsty desert dwellers get, darling.” Abdara smiles as she plucks a glass of Galtan bubbly off a passing tray. “At least think about it while you’re dusting yourself off, OK?”
"He has this habit of snooting snuff. Disgusting. I have some itching powder here, and I want you or your friends to replace his snuff with this." "And you thought you couldn't bring any useful skills to liven up the party, Brakkik. Everyone here is smart enough to adapt what skills they have to at least try something." Abdara grins at the ratfolk in a 'sisterly, told you so' way. "Lovely to chat to you, Metella." "If we're both peddling similar goods it might pay to spread ourselves about more. Ciao, ciao for now." Once the dwarf is out of earshot, she says casually to the Trapbreaker: អាច បង់ ថ្លៃ ដើម្បី វិភាគ ' ម្សៅ ដប ' ដើម្បី ធ្វើ ឲ្យ ប្រាកដ ថា វា ជា អ្វី ទាំង អស់ Draconic:
"Might pay to Craft (alchemy) the 'itching powder' to make sure that's all it is." "I think I'm better off networking with someone else now, Brakkik. But if you or someone else wants some help, let me know."
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