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Althea cocks an eyebrow before responding. "Why, yes. That would be most appreciated," she confirms while casting an appraising eye upon Warren, a relative new face to her. "It should take about that long for my team to get their things together."
Althea smiles and offers a bow. "Excellent. I am glad that we can all come to a reasonable agreement. I promise that you will be thankful for making this decision, although there should never be any doubt about that." She moves to leave and begin her preparations, but she pauses by the council chambers door and turns to offer one last bit of parting advice. "Regarding the various sightings and reports that I'm certain you've heard - trolls, swamp witches, and so on - move with even more care than you ordinarily would. Just because Nyrissa has given you 'time to make a decision,' don't trust her to keep from meddling in the interim. "The swamp witch seems too obvious, too trite to be her doing. Those trolls, on the other hand...if they are indeed moving northward and have already culled the lizardfolk like your own hunter believes, then their actions are rank with Nyrissa's influence. Expect her to deliver other dangerous surprises upon Tamlyn in a bid to make you believe that you need her protection to survive."
"I expected resistance," Althea states plainly. "But isn't absolution through service a mainstay of the legal system here in Tamlyn? Hunting down some of the bloodthirsty fey that caused damage in Horace, bringing them to justice, and bringing an elven stronghold under your control? Certainly seems like a greater service than the bandits you put to work as ditch diggers and bushwhackers." Althea stifles a sigh. "I get anxious when I'm unproductive for too long, so I would appreciate being given clear permission to assemble my team and ready this expedition."
"I plan to recruit the lizardman, the moody mercenary captain, that overly ascetic Abadaran, and that woman from Liberthane - assuming she promises not to bury her sword in my back." Althea promises to also send back half of whatever treasures the evil fey have hoarded in the abandoned elven keep, keeping the rest to help finance the claiming of the site. In return for eliminating the threat and claiming the fortification for Tamlyn, Althea asks to be made baroness and oversee the site as your first full-fledged vassal.
A wry smirk cuts across Althea's patrician face as she watches Pelipe cling close to Ahto. "I'll begin first with a piece of good news for you," she says, aiming her words for Pelipe in particular. "I think I am quite ready to abandon my attempts to win over Lord Ahto. Our rivalry, short though it was, was surprisingly invigorating because you were a fair and worthy opponent. Now I think I will focus my energies upon a new challenge. "When I was operating under my own charter of exploration issued by Rostland, I discovered a ruined keep sitting deep in the Narlmarches. Right away, I recognized the architecture as being pre-Earthfall elven in origin. At first I merely made a mental note of its existence, as there were greater priorities at the time." Althea then explains that her thoughts have returned to the ruined keep after questioning some of the troublesome fey who recently descended upon the town. She learned that a handful of wicked fey in a tenuous alliance have actually been living there for quite some time, and they returned there when the fey gathering dispersed. "Make no mistake, these are decidedly not the sort of creatures to whom you want to extend an offer of citizenship. Apparently, for many years now they have lured travelers and hunters to the keep in order to prey upon them. In fact, I've learned that their de facto leader, called the Dancing Lady, actually subsists herself by consuming the blood of her victims." She then gets to the heart of her new proposition. "My plan is to assemble a team from the more competent individuals that have collected here, eliminate these dangerous fey and end their threat to both our settlers and the more...polite, cooperative fey, and claim the keep on behalf of Tamlyn."
The arrival of the crate is only the first part of the surprise, with perhaps the greater shock being that it is led into the council chamber by Althea Thrune. The crate is carried aloft by two of the recently indentured bandits. "I hope you don't mind that I borrowed these two from...Mister Vernikas, was it?" the Chelish noblewoman says, gesturing towards Stayven. "I thought this chore was beneath the rest of the staff, who are already busy elsewhere. You can put it down right there." At the former baroness's sharp direction, the indentured men set the crate down upon the council table. They depart, hastened along by a curt wave of Thrune's hand. "I also hope you don't mind that I took the initiative and liberty of expediting this order for you, my lord," she says with a half bow to Ahto that is more formal than coquettish. "I know a house in New Stetven, the Redshield Coster, that produces excellent work, and quickly - at least, as long as the customer is worth their time," she says, this time with a proud, self-indulgent curtsy. "After you have had ample time to admire the handiwork, there is a matter of business that I would like to discuss. With your lordship and the whole council, of course," she adds with a polite self correction.
Dice Rolls:
"Much better," Althea muses proudly as she summons forth her fiery magic. Her scorching rays strike the slug's broad flanks and burn away its slimy hide. These wounds are worsened as Katrine and the hastened militia lob more chunks of salt at the beast. The monster lurches and convulses, its bulk collapsing closer to the tilled soil. It is clearly near death, but this is rectified by one last wave of reinforcements. A small swarm of grigs and pixies, led by Tyg, swoops down and grasps as much of the smaller salt chunks as they can. These First Citizens flutter along and make a tiny bombing run upon the giant slug, finishing off the last vestiges of its vigor.
"You expect me to break apart slabs of salt?" Althea asks while casting a sour look at her romantic rival. Despite the indignation, she does the task put before her, snapping off chunks of salt with surprising strength. "You realize I could be scorching this thing with beams of pure flame, right?" she asks, handing the first piece to Katrine. Likewise, the militia sergeant breaks and passes chunks of salt to two of his militia soldiers who are still able to stand and fight. The other militia members who are wounded hang back, watching over their comrades who are entirely unconscious.
The smatterings of salt burn the slug as it draws out the protective mucus and water from its sides. Of course, owing to its immense size, there is still much more to go. Ahto brings down Burden at a flawed angle. Despite his enhanced size and strength, he only manages to cut down a few inches into the slug's rubbery hide - not enough to do any appreciable damage.
Ahto unleashes a surge of strength that seems to surpass even the magic laid upon him by Pelipe; for a brief moment, he wonders whether Abadar has also blessed him, but he pushes aside the thought to focus on the challenge at hand. With engineering insight from Pelipe, Ahto manages to not only dislodge the fallen beam, but he lifts it high above his head in such a way that supports the buckling door jamb. He buys ample time for the imperiled family to escape, the two fathers hurrying their older children out ahead of them, while one also carries a wailing infant. You escape the farmhouse as the roof slumps down and crashes upon the weakened support beams, starting a chain reaction of collapses that leaves behind a jagged heap of stone and wood in mere moments. You step outside to find Katrine pouring arrows into the giant slug's soft flank, but doing no appreciable damage to the monster. They also see Althea place a hand upon Katrine's back, upon her shoulder blade. The ranger can feel some manner of magic washing over her, but she doesn't have time to figure out its nature before the slug, inching closer, unleashes another stream of digestive acid directed at her.
This time, the creature strikes her, leaving her doused in the foul, viscous fluid. However, while it does sting, it does not leave her skin feeling aflame like she expected. "You're welcome," Althea quips sarcastically.
The fallen beam is very stout and wedged against a part of the roof above. Pelipe and Ahto struggle to budge it even a single inch at first. The ominous creak and groan of the timbers sounds deafening, even above the frightened cries of the children.
Outside, as the militia continues to drag their wounded comrades away from harm, Katrine stands proud and presents a new target for the giant slug. The ugly beast slithers forth, crushing hay bales and toppling fences, then rears back and - with a sickening gurgle - spits forth a hissing stream of digestive acid at the ranger. However, Katrine is far too nimble, and with a leaping step gets clear of danger before it strikes. Althea matches Katrine's pace and stands only a few paces behind her. "Do you have a plan, or would you like me to save your life?" the baroness sardonically asks.
Pelipe saw Althea make use of neither spellbook nor even material components as she worked her magic, strongly marking her as a sorceress with inborn magical talent. The noblewoman dispatches her summoned spider to patrol the perimeter whilst the party investigates the site. Based upon the threads of magic tethering it to this plane, Pelipe gauges that the creature will remain for another few minutes.
Furthermore, Pelipe discovers that Althea may not be as defenseless as she first looked. Her refined clothes bear strong enchantments, and Pelipe realizes that it may actually be a set of armor glamored to look like ordinary clothes. "Such creatures often carry exotic gizzards in their stomachs, so if you have the stomach for it, it may be worth your while to cut into the bird," Althea suggests, without a hint of squeamishness, whilst idly fixing her hair.
"I don't suppose any among you have experience tracking such a peculiar creature?" Althea coyly asks as she deftly swings herself up into the saddle of her chosen horse.
"Do you intend to lend your swordarm and come with us, Althea?" she asks with curiosity. "Of course," she replies as though confirming something that should be obvious. "I learned some details from your harried guards about the monsters plaguing your city-state. Quite the challenge, if I may say so. Having no less than a trained and accomplished Hellknight Signifer at your side would go a long way to securing victory." She walks along the stable, assessing the horses. She abruptly stops at the stall of a lean, wiry pale horse. "I like this one. I can see speed in its legs."
On your way to the castle stables, you are intercepted by Althea. "I took a walk along the parapet to have a look at your city-state," she states non-nonchalantly. "It occurred to me that it would be rather unfair to make an assessment of your progress given the current...calamity. If nothing else, your stronghold is far more impressive than I expected. Certainly several steps up from that rickety trading post." She surveys the horses snorting and chomping on oats in the stable. "So, which steed will be mine?"
"Thank you for saving me the trouble of having to retrieve you." Althea emerges from behind a thick curtain of willow branches draped above some low shrubs. "When I noticed your outspoken dressmaker slipping away, I thought it would be wise to secretly chaperone her, especially to find out what mischief might have befallen her...or what mischief she might be up to." The noblewoman grimaces as she swats away some insects that have fallen onto her arm and shoulder. "She's found herself quite the revel out here in the swamp. I counted a half-dozen men and a trio of ogres using stumps and logs to host themselves a drunken banquet that your friend has now joined. The center of it all appears to be a pair of wild women, swamp witches or fey perhaps, who have purloined them of their senses."
"As quaint as Brevic house politics may be, you may want to table this discussion for now. Besides the fact that you are sharing personal information right after being told that you're standing inside a hub of the local spy network," Althea warns, gesturing around at the Messengers Guildhall, "I can guarantee that Mayor Selline has already been informed of our presence and the questions we're asking. "It is only a matter of time before he decides to ask his own questions, and he is just as liable to spring those questions upon us in a dungeon as a parlor, so it may be wise to continue on our way, if only so Miss Lightdriver and I can continue our conversation."
Pelipe: "...If Ahto is the man capable of bringing order and peace to the Stolen Lands...in bringing about a 'flourishing city-state born out of these wilds' as you wish to see, but will not have you as consort, will you ever accept that?" "No. I would not accept that," Althea says firmly, although not with a tone of hostility. "I do not easily accept defeat. Indeed, even when defeat seems inevitable, I prefer to turn it around into advantage. After all, that is why I stopped seeing Lord Ahto as an adversary, back when we both vied for control of the Greenbelt. I came to admire his acumen and determination."
"My motives are fair," Althea states firmly. "What do you know of the Order of the Nail?" she asks, though not waiting for a response. "My education and training within the order taught me the importance of quelling the savagery and danger of the frontier and laying the foundations of civilization. That is why I sought a charter from Brevoy: the Stolen Lands represent one of the largest stretches of wild, violent land in need of taming." She then confides - concedes, even - that her own chartered attempt to explore and settle the Hooktongue Slough, west of Tamlyn, failed due to the concentrated efforts of the tribes of boggards, lizardfolk, and Tiger Lord barbarians, coupled with the dangers of hags, hydras, trolls, and other monsters. "I'm not one to let a single defeat, or even a few defeats, to deter me. If the Slough would not provide a foothold, then I had to turn my attention elsewhere - hence why we came to clash over the Greenbelt. "My motive, my goal, is to see a flourishing city-state or nation born out of the wilds. If I cannot do that as ruler, I am content to see it done with my help as consort. Believe me: I have first-hand experience with the savage threats that walk the Stolen Lands, so my insight will be invaluable in safeguarding Tamlyn." She punctuates this offer of assistance by alluding to her ability to interrogate the Stroud daughter waiting back in Tamlyn, thus uncovering other potential hag children embedded in the population.
Before she can guide her horse from Ahto to Pelipe, Althea finds herself interrupted by Addison. The noblewoman rolls her eyes and suppresses a groan as she listens to the seamstress. "You're speaking of love, and without getting into an examination of that foolish concept, I'll simply say that's not the matter I'm concerned with. My chief concern is the same as Lord Ahto's: the prosperity of Tamlyn. I can simply provide more as a Lady-Consort or co-ruler or whatever title we wish to ascribe to the role. "I was just about to offer a compromise to my rival, to see if we can both get what we want while also making Lord Ahto happy and giving the best advantage possible to Tamlyn."
"As you wish, my lord," she says, a certain emphasis on the closing. Althea slows her horse's pace and smoothly guides it until she is beside Pelipe. She presents her proposal, from one estranged noblewoman to the other. "You're probably suspicious of me, and perhaps rightly so," she concedes. "In the past, I've given your companions plenty of reasons to distrust me. I could attribute my behavior to the rather...predatory environment in which I was raised, but that would just be making excuses. "The traditional backbiting and betrayal that my kin have made an art form? I've seen where it has landed me. I think a personal change is in order, and cooperation is the new, more fruitful order of the day."
"Is there some law that you feel I am derelict in my duty for having not yet decreed?" Ahto asks, curious where the woman is going with her line of conversation. "Why, marriage laws, of course," she says with a smile. "I have studied Abadaran texts during my education and training with the Order of the Nail, and I recall that in The Order of Numbers, Abadar decrees that polygamous marriages are just as sacrosanct as monogamous ones, so long as the details and clauses of the requisite nuptial contracts are clearly delineated. "I don't have to tell you that, as Judge of the Gods, Abadar is the arbiter of the law, not the giver of laws. His tenets decree respect for the rightful laws of many cultures and nations, so long as they foster the growth of civilization. And after all, there are several nations, such as the Empire of Kelesh, that have grown strong as their rulers appreciate the benefits of keeping multiple spouses, especially for political reasons. As the Lord of Tamlyn, you have the power to shape the law of your land just as the Padishah Emperors have for generations." Althea pauses to toss her head and flip aside some lengths of hair that have fallen out of place, letting them settle over her shoulder. "Take me as your lady-consort for the political and economic benefits that it will bring, then take Miss Lightdiver as your second wife," she states plainly, as though delivering a closing statement in a legal case. "This seems like a fair compromise that will give everyone what they desire whilst also assuring Tamlyn's good fortune going forward."
"Call it peculiar if you will, but I quite enjoy having a new rival," Althea says to Ahto, casting her eyes briefly towards Pelipe. "You should remember that, as the Lord of Tamlyn, your responsibility is not simply to enforce the laws. Yours is also the hand that writes and decrees the laws."
"You have heard my pronouncement of sentence on Vark. The same will apply to you if you attempt to flee, harm or kill any member of our company, or in any way violate your oath. Do you understand?" "Of course! Remember, it was Vark who fled. I returned to stand at your side," Althea says, casting her eyes towards Ahto with a brief but curious tilt of her head. "After all, I am quite eager to see Tamlyn and what you've managed to build out of the wilds." Althea volunteers to ride alongside Ahto. "All the better to keep an eye on me, yes?" she asks coyly.
"What a surprise: I'm actually relieved to see that you all escaped," Althea says calmly as she steps out from among the others who have fled unstuck Uringen. "I suppose it makes sense that a few of you would manage to notice the signs of the pending shift. "Unfortunately, whilst on the subject of things that were left behind, that wretched Vark decided to run in the opposite direction. While I imagine you had some punishment planned for him, I suppose you can take comfort knowing that he has essentially taken up voluntary imprisonment in the displaced town."
Althea narrows her eyes and offers a bemused smile to Ahto. "Interested in the domestic type, are you?" she says. Her voice sounds coy yet lands as pointedly as a javelin. The baroness acquiesces, but she makes an exaggerated show of it as she retrieves the crescent rolls from the oven. She moves like...well, like a noblewoman roleplaying at being a servant. Perhaps surprisingly, she does not make the rookie mistake of removing the hot tray without a mitt, demonstrating that she thinks quickly and carefully about any task she sets about. She withdraws the tray and sets it down, offering sharp, teasing glances towards Lord Ahto with every step of the process.
Pelipe:
No longer hampered by the distractions posed by sadistic fey, you are able to make some interesting discoveries regarding the strange goings-on around the glade known as Spry's Heart. First of all, after some examination, you realize that the strange wooden object at the center of the sinkhole, and which powers the portal to Simmaron in the First World, is actually the wooden heart of a treant. This leads to the further conclusion that the massive, hollow tree at the heart of the glade is likely the remains of an especially large specimen of treant. You ultimately conclude that this treant - perhaps the Spry for which this grove is named - was trapped here after being separated from the First World. The condition of its remains, the bark and wood quite bleached, suggests that the treant succumbed to a variant of the condition that plagues Golarion's gnomes. The treant's heart still possesses considerable fey energy, and you suspect that it may be in a sort of hibernation rather than being outright dead. This lingering connection to the fey may be why it was able to power the portal - and why being in close proximity seems to have alleviated the bleached gnomes' condition.
"I believe the baker has some crescent rolls in the oven over yonder," Althea says with a disinterested flick of her wrist. "He said they should be done right around now, so you can feel free to remove them and help yourselves." Even without Ahto's keen sense for people's inner thoughts, you all strongly suspect that Master Goshstone asked Althea to remove the rolls from the oven while he supervises Vark; however, the baroness has utterly no interest in playing servant or cook.
The baroness' lips curl up, ever so slightly, in an amused grin. With her ruse undone, rather than feeling any sort of defeat, Althea appears quite pleased with Ahto's ability to see through her folly. "That," she states sharply yet with familiarity, "was revenge for leaving me alone with Vark. Playing nursemaid to that unhinged, gussied-up goblin is probably a crueler punishment than being put to the block." You notice that she stands alone in the bakery's shopfront, with no sign of either the store's owner or Vark. "In case you are worried by his absence, he is in the privy. I coerced the baker into keeping watch over him. After all, if you are expecting me to begin supervising naked gnomes, then you may as well separate my head from my shoulders now." Her words unexpectedly presage the rescued gnomes' arrival through the oven portal. Althea surveys them, her brow arching in a blend of confusion and disgust. "As though Vark wasn't unpleasant enough...I sincerely hope you aren't expecting me to babysit an entire gaggle of these white-haired little boggins."
You plunge back into the earthen tunnel within the husk of the massive tree, this time with Nithra's body, his liberated loot, a tooth fairy prisoner, and the freed gnomes in tow. The air grows warmer, drier as you near the Uringen-end of the magic passageway. One by one, you carefully pick your way out of Goshstone's magic oven. You find Althea waiting for you there, a shocked expression worn upon her face. "By the gods, you're back?!" she exclaims. "What in all the Asmodean depths happened in there? You've been gone for three years!" Sense Motive DC 20:
Althea proves to be a talented actress, making it seem like she is honestly surprised.
However, you can tell that she is making this up, likely to have a laugh at your expense. Perception DC 20: The bakery appears entirely unchanged from when you left, so Althea's statement is very suspect.
"Oh, Hell forbid such a terrible fate," Althea replies to the Vixen with a sardonic smile. The Chelish woman watches with equal parts amusement and rapt attention as the party, one by one, climbs into the magical oven and vanishes within is sooty depths, one after another.
"Oh my. Lord Ahto, so forceful," Althea says in a mock swoon. "Keep that up, and my practical interests in you may become far more personal." She punctuates this with a patrician laugh, but she seems genuinely impressed by how Ahto handles the matter. "In the meantime, shall I stay here to keep an eye on both gnomes?" she asks, gesturing towards Vark and Goshstone.
"You did quite well ingratiating your lord...with a common baker. Bravo," Althea sardonically praises Pelipe. She sharply turns on her heel to face the rest of the party, proudly standing with her knuckles placed on her hips and elbows outthrust. "Now then, if someone else would care to hold Vark's leash for a bit, I could seek out the most influential, most financially endowed merchants in Uringen and strike an accord with them. As I'm sure you can guess, I can be quite persuasive." She rolls her eyes, anticipating a tepid response from the party. "I know you think me arrogant and condescending, but I am merely being pragmatic. Lord Ahto cannot spend too much time away from his seat of power. Not only is there at least one changeling Stroud daughter still at large there to be dealt with, but there are innumerable ambitious swordlords and scheming noble houses in Brevoy with their eyes upon the Stolen Lands. If we dawdle too long on this diplomatic expedition into what is, frankly, the middle of nowhere, by the time we return we'll find that he's been usurped in our absence." She now turns her eyes to Lord Ahto himself. "I'm looking out for your wellbeing - you and your land. If I'm to be sworn to your service, then I'm going to take it seriously and do my damn best."
The door to the bakery creaks open ever so slightly, and Althea - who has been staying outside to keep an eye on Vark - extends an arm and curved finger, gesturing for Ahto to step outside for a moment. "I suspect we've both reached the same conclusion about this so-called baker," Althea whispers to Lord Ahto, confirming that she has been following the proceedings through the window and the cracked-open door. "His mannerisms betray him. He has not the confidence or conviction of a collaborator. I know someone being blackmailed when I see one. That troublesome fey about whom you've been told so much? It has clearly gotten to him, holding something over his head. "If you want to get anything out of the baker, you have to convince him that you are more powerful than the one he fears."
Althea only offers her own, half-hearted introduction to Lady Aurelia when the rest of the party look her way, expecting her to speak as well. "We save the best for last, then, as it were. I am Baroness Althea Thrune - first of my name and niece to Her Infernal Majestrix, Queen Abrogail II - formerly of Westcrown and Citadel Vraid, but lately of Tamlyn...it would seem," she adds with a dash of sarcasm. Whilst she casts her smile towards the mayors of Uringen, Althea's eyes dart towards Pelipe as though issuing a coy challenge, knowing that her rival is paying such close attention to her. Pelipe, regarding Althea:
Now that Althea has finally shared her relation to the ruler of Cheliax, you can better identify her place in the thrice-damned family tree - and by extension, the power structure of House Thrune and the Infernal Empire.
You deduce that Althea is, most likely, the youngest child of the Chelish ruler's eldest brother. This would explain how she is so close in age to her aunt, who is in her early thirties. Most members of that branch of the Thrune family have met unfortunate ends, with exile being the best outcome in most cases. It is hard to even conclusively identify the names of these members of House Thrune, as Abrogail II has engaged in much narrative editing to eliminate even information about her potential rivals. Being such a close relation to the Majestrix means that Althea, theoretically, has a claim to the Chelish throne. Of course, you recall that Althea previously mentioned being trained within one of the hellknight orders, which would have presumably disqualified her from the line of succession. Thus, you come to suspect that Althea was submitted her to the hellknights, either by her family or by her own choice, to intentionally disqualify her and spare her from potential assassination. This would also explain why her rank is a mere baroness.
Pelipe, regarding Lady Aurelia: House Ogden is a very minor noble family formerly hailing from Ustalav. Wonky mentioned previously that one of the founders of Uringen was an Ustalavic wizard, so she likely recruited Lady Aurelia's forebears as settlers and investors back when this town was first founded. Any ties her name may have had with Ustalav are likely long since severed, and her modern noble connections probably go no further than Uringen's borders.
Katrine: "I'm disappointed," Althea replies to you. "You were trained to hunt hags, were you not? If you wanted to employ some especially biting wordplay, you would have compared me to your preferred prey."
Althea hazards a proud smile, having turned your threat back around. "But yes, I do count you and the other woman - my rival, I suppose - among Lord Ahto's cadre of dogged allies. I am not eager to find my death by crossing any of you, which should be all the more proof that I'm not trying to arrange some manner of trick or betrayal. "Ahto needs someone at his side to help rule and protect Tamlyn, and I am the best candidate," she states proudly, as though simply reciting a fact.
Althea sighs. "I didn't expect to win him over right away. In fact, if he were persuaded so easily, I might have to lower my estimation of Lord Ahto." She pauses and turns to Katrine. "Appropriate that he should mention Galt, considering that his problems will begin to multiply upon Galt's imminent fall."
"Are you sure you are not one of my own countrymen? Speaking with you makes me homesick?" she says with a dreamy, wistful look - although Ahto suspects it's all for show - before her confident demeanor reasserts itself. "Seriously, you think and calculate like a Thrune. I'm impressed, frankly. "As for assurances, it is very much in my best interest now to keep you alive and well, if only for one very important reason." Althea pauses to gently flick a finger, sending a splish of water towards Katrine. "If something were to, hypothetically, happen to you, well...I do not fear reprisal from Abadar himself so much as I fear what your allies would do. Unfettered from your oversight, that high-kicking woman in red and the gnome tinkerer with her hounds would probably hunt me to the ends of Golarion."
Althea purses her lips and narrows her eyes, Katrine's rebuttal eliciting a sour look from the Chelish noblewoman.
Ahto:
Althea is not trying to deceive you. Rather, she is trying to persuade you, knowing how futile falsehoods would be.
Since her attempts to set herself up as Baroness of the Greenbelt has failed, you suspect she has constructed a "Plan B" - ingratiating herself with you and become baroness by marriage.
"While you've excelled at attending to internal threats, such as uncovering the Strouds' daughters embedded in your town and striking a peace with the fey, you've done little against external threats," Althea muses. "Then again, there's only so much you can do, at least on your own. The foes arrayed against you have had such a head start to prepare, after all." When asked what she can offer as consort, a pleased smile crosses her face. "Have you ever seen a dowry from House Thrune?" she asks coyly. "It is far more than a basket of fruit, head of cattle, or a...set of mason's tools," she says, pointedly. "Soldiers, servants, coffers of gold, heirloom magic. Such is what my kin back in Cheliax would deliver to commemorate our union. What's more, my colleagues in the Order of the Nail would be more apt to station a contingent to defend Tamlyn if I were its lady rather than its mere servant."
Althea rolls her eyes when Katrine's arrival interrupts the start of her rebuttal. "Delighted to see you, Miss Tholian," she returns the greeting, putting on her best, overly sweet patrician mien. She quickly returns her attention to Ahto, however. "Expectedly astute of you. Of course it would be a political alliance," she agrees, an almost enthusiasm in her voice, "but you are mistaken on the second point. I have also given much thought to the potential benefit for you and Tamlyn as a whole, not just myself. "You shouldn't blindly rely upon Brevoy's largesse. They keep you on a leash, but do you really think they will do anything but tighten their grip and shorten the slack as the months roll into years? Even the best case scenario for you is being made a vassal for the Swordlords, assuming their schemes against the Issian-held throne are successful. Frankly, I think they have little chance of success. More likely, House Surtova will recognize Rostland's investment in your barony as the power grab that it is, and they will demand you surrender your title and land at swordpoint. "And that's just the intrigues of Brevoy. Have you given any thought to Taldor?" she asks with a coy tilt of her head.
"I believe you've mistaken me for someone else." Ahto turns and looks up to see that, rather than an attendant or wine steward, it is Althea Thrune who stands above him. The disrobed noblewoman waits for no invitation before slipping into the bath across from the lord of Tamlyn. She sighs as she savors the touch of the warm water. "Even the more provincial cities back home can afford more luxuriant accommodations, but I'll not turn up my nose at such a surprising bit of comfort out in the wilds." An impish smile crosses her face. "I must say how shocked I am that Miss Lightdiver found the courage to finally speak her mind to you," she confesses. You aren't sure whether she intentionally misspeaks Pelipe's name. "I thought I'd have more time to work my own charms, but oh well. Such is life." She leans forward in a way designed to accentuate her own physical appeal. "I recognize that mine is a hard case to argue, given our past history, but I'll lay bare my thoughts," she begins, proud of her word play. "I rue that I have not had the opportunity to demonstrate my talents fully, but I assure you that I am no mere pampered aristocrat. "I've actually trained as a Hellknight, serving among the ranks of the Order of the Nail. Studying their philosophies is what first kindled my desire to carve civilization out of the savage wilds, which brought me to Brevoy and the Stolen Lands - and my goal has not changed. "You know...we're no longer enemies. I may be bound to your service, but I can be so much more than a mere servant..."
"This looks like the sort of place where people go when they want to disappear," Althea sneers as she looks around the street and the starkly dressed citizens. "Outlaws, heretics, debtors, vagabonds. Be wary of placing trust with any of these Uringen folk."
"Cults of Gyronna are the bane of civilized society," Althea scoffs. "These so-called River Kingdoms lack the organization and legal systems to properly root out and eliminate such threats. All the more reason why places like the Stolen Lands need to be properly tamed: fewer places for such wretches to fester and poison everything around them."
Althea makes an exaggerated show of releasing Mathilda and letting her run off into the woods, after her wicked family. The Chelish noble raises her hands into the air, as if ridding herself from some burden or responsibility. "When this viper returns, fully grown and with her fangs, you had best pray to Abadar that someone will be there to protect you while you sleep," Althea cautions as she watches the treacherous changeling child slip into the wilds.
Ahto recognizes no deception in Althea's account - and this is not simply the result of carefully choosing her words to present something that is technically the truth, as the girl Mathilda did. Althea spoke truthfully. Ahto:
You suspect that Althea, recognizing that she will be bound in service to Tamlyn for the foreseeable future, does not want to see chaos and disorder unleashed upon the young nation. "Frankly, my recommendation would be to simply end the child here and now. Remove any risk of her growing up to bring misguided vengeance against you in the years ahead. Failing that, just send her off with her kin. You can do nothing for her. Let her be what she will be. At least you can have her do it far from your doorstep." Althea is also quite eager to reach Uringen, having heard much about it from both Vark and the party and finding her curiosity raised.
Althea lets a short, haughty laugh fall from her lips. She speaks before Mathilda can offer any response in her defense. "You would do well to distrust everything this little...creature says," Althea states. "While you were distracted, she took me aside and tried to recruit me to her cause. She asked me to take her along, promising that she and her sister in your land would help me usurp you. "If you think you can reform her with your usual strategy, you are inviting knives in the back. No matter what false oaths you extract from her, no matter what crocodile tears she offers, this creature will never be simply a little girl."
Sprocket makes for a nearby stand of undergrowth, but he leaps back with a start as the errant Althea makes her reappearance, emerging from betwixt the shrubs and trees. She drags along the young daughter of the Strouds who led you here, pulling her along by the arm. "Pardon my absence, but this little one had interesting things to tell me," Althea reports, gesturing towards the changeling girl. This elicits a sudden spasm of shock and anger from the child. She struggles to twist herself free whilst shouting about how "you promised!" Althea just calmly speaks over the child's tantrum. "Mathilda here was telling me about her sister's friends in your town. It seems that Jocelyn woman you were all speaking about has gathered together her own little cult dedicated to Gyronna, hidden within the very heart of Tamlyn. When you return home, you may want to begin some investigations to root them out." Althea rolls her eyes and groans as Mathilda redoubles her impotent struggle against the surprisingly strong noblewoman. "Does someone wish to take her before I strike her?"
Dice Rolls:
Althea briefly looks over her shoulder with a sneer as Wonky's dogs violently shake the downed, unconscious Louhi Stroud. "Do you have this in hand at last, or do you need more assistance from your prisoner?" Althea asks, her proud tone contrasting with the battle around her.
Dice Rolls:
"It looks like you could use some help, my lord" Althea calls to Ahto sardonically, her voice piercing the magical silence. Coils of red magical energy unspool from around her arms, focusing within her palms. She unleashes a pair of scorching rays aimed at the giant, leaving terrible blackened wounds upon the tall brute. Her summoned hounds are less effective, their teeth finding no purchase against the hag's legs.
Althea takes a step away from the magic dagger taking swipes at her. She also pauses to nod in approval as Katrine's arrow plunges into the back of the eldest Stroud and the pair of dogs begin savaging their changeling daughter. Althea raises her arms and chants her own spell, working to call a squad of beasts to attack the hags. Red circles of runes appear around the Strouds as the hounds begin to take shape.
Althea leans in to whisper to Ahto. "Impressive. And here I thought you'd completely overlooked the two girls circling around us. Of course...one of them is just that little whelp that led us here," she sneers.
"I have no experience with them whatsoever," Althea states proudly, as though recounting part of her noble lineage. "When I caught that treacherous gnome visiting some mischief upon a foppish duelist and his second, that was my first encounter with a so-called Bleachling. I wanted to depart Mivon, and with no other destination readily presenting itself, I generously offered to accompany him on his fanciful quest for this bizarre village he keeps going on about." Althea pauses to stretch her neck. "As for the hags, I did not even know there was a coven active in this region until those bumpkins mistook me for one of them. Whilst I might've previously been content to go on my way and otherwise leave the hags be, now that I've been sworn into your service," she says, tossing her hair over her shoulder, "I suppose I have no choice but to help you by visiting my vengeance upon these magical wretches." She says this in an almost sing-song sigh, sarcastically feigning resignation for a duty that she not-at-all secretly looks forward to.
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