"The 'Marquise de Melodrama' you say? I heard it was simple to get raised to the nobility in Taldor, but I did not realize just how simple it was!
The merchant fiddles with her sleeves, and the slit purses and tacky Qadiran garb disappear, replaced by a white mask and a white and gold gown.
The smirk drops, leaving an appreciative smile in its place.
"While I would love to stay to mingle further, the hour grows late, and I fear that I have obligations tomorrow morning. This has been a lovely evening. Thank you, Snow Princess, for your hospitality. And to all of you who are still here, as well as those who have already left, thank you for the pleasure of your company. I hope that we meet again someday, with our true faces. Perhaps we know each other already, or perhaps we will meet again for the first time."
The former merchant curtsies to the Snow Princess.
"I thank you, also, gracious hostess, for granting me the allowance to bring such an odious caricature into such an elegant hall. I hope that I provided sufficient entertainment to make up for any offense that I caused to anyone's sensibilities."
She waits to give others time to reply, and once they have said their piece, she will turn and depart.
"My lady, I hope, with all that happened, that you were never truly offended. You're part was well played, and I was honored to dance with the Merchant of the Sands. I bid you farewell, and hope that we might meet again under more honest circumstances, so I might know the brilliant and inspired woman who so well portrayed an amusing desert trader."
Stavian turns to the Snow Princess. Taking her hand to kiss it, should she offer.
"Your Highness, I say wholeheartedly that this was one of the finest parties I have attended in my life. My compliments to your staff. The music was a particular highlight." Stavian says giving a bow to the Winter Drake. "For now, the hour grows late, and I've a country to run, and so now is my bittersweet exit necessary. Come Argyle, back to the palace."
"Careful Princess, you presume upon my duty, my birthright, giving away all of these titles. But then, you have been doing so quite amusingly." Stavian says with a wink and a smile. "Please continue, my lady, I anticipate greatly my next chuckle."
With a light clap, the Grand Prince smiles widely. "A mighty victory, Madam Cat, and a dashing show of nobility, Sir Rat. You are all, of course, correct to think that cooperation is good and quite necessary for victory.
"I will be sending diplomats across the inner sea to shore up deals for allies; glory ... and safety can be had by all. In fact, I will admit that I've already begun diplomatic efforts. Have I not, in the form of Pathfinder agency, sent you all across Avistan? Garund? As fine representatives of our mighty empire, I'm certain that you all have conducted yourselves admirably.
"But as for the future, you must double your efforts. We must find friends where once we found rivals. We must find strengths that we once ignored. We must be better Human beings, Elven beings, Feline and Rodent beings. We must sound the horn and bang the drum, so that troops fall under our banner, and march for us, but also we must yell the cries of war so that armies add their banners to ours. Taldor CANNOT take all the glory, if we are to win against the fiends of the Abyss."
Stavian steps to the Snow Princess, whispering. "Perhaps the rat could use the help of a physician?"
The male Twin cocks his head to the Midnight Samurai, his once flat voice rising heatedly as he speaks. "Are you mad, or merely drunk? This is no rally before the masses; there are no gullible fools here. Your words are empty and meaningless. The Shining Crusade was a war, and several armies were required to fight it. So too were the crusades that held the Worldwound in check. A half-dozen grave robbers won't close the Worldwound; that nonsense is the stuff of campfire tales. Closing the Worldwound will require an army," he continues, gesturing expansively with one arm, "One larger than any single nation can field, and most of those who march will die abroad. Drunkenly invoking mythic heroes to be your salvation is sheer lunacy and unbecoming of a leader." As he speaks the robed and masked man quivers with some restrained emotion.
Meanwhile, his female counterpart has become distracted by the antics of the Kuthroda Rat, so enraptured by his...
The Prince looks amused at both the inspirational chest beating of the the Samurai, and the now hotly perturbed Chelaxian twin. "I suppose now, that the most interesting questions from your argument remain." Stavian takes a long gulp of wine, wipes his face daintily, as his royal station requires, and continues. "How large a force could the Pathfinders field? And, if asked or negotiated with, would they field it? I, and I'm sure many of you, might find that since the society has agents from across the inner sea, their example might spur or inspire their member nations to action. Prestige and glory should also be considered as valuable commodities to any nation looking to wield the most influence. I'm sure there is a great deal of prestige and glory to be had in winning a war on the Abyssal invasion."
The Merchant turns to the Grand Prince, and speaks in a haughty voice:
Qadira does not burrow in to countries; we are not a worm! We are a hawk, who will swoop down and peacefully deal with you, if you are fortunate enough to warrant our attention. You speak of wealth that is not gold or jewels, but is people...that sounds like some sappy moralizing story that adults tell to children, the better to shape them into gullible slaves who are easily parted with their money.
Her tone becomes petty and whiny, and she scrunches up her nose:
If you were to bleed them dry, then...fine, fine. You win this time.
Keep your shiny jewels and your shiny throne. I hope you stub your pinky toe on your bedframe. Which undoubtedly is not made of solid gold. HARRUMPH!"
With that, she gets up from the table and walks away in a huff, pausing every few steps to turn around and "harrumph" at the Grand Prince while shooting him the stinkeye.
The Grand Prince is very amused at this point, his playful tone becoming just the smallest bit mocking, "Oh come, Merchant, we are all friends here! Besides, I've only won the first round! I do so wish to see you swoop down and peacefully deal with me!"
Stavian watches her walk away, perhaps just a fraction of a moment past appropriate, but quickly collects himself, turning to the Midnight Samurai, with a chuckle, "My ... if Qadirans are this prone to giving up, perhaps I've been too timid with my military?"
The Merchant turns her attention to the Grand Prince.
"It's easy to outwit a fool like you! Hah, if you stopped convincing your nobility to pay for "public works", they could be using that money to become even richer through trade. Some of them don't even have solid gold tea sets. It is a travesty. And you would have more money too if you only invested in trade. Why not monopolize trade and then mark up the prices within Taldor by charging huge external tariffs? You would make stupendous profits off of your people. Who cares about them anyway? You are the one in charge, act like it. By the time they all go broke...give me a minute, I lost my train of thought, but I know this is a good idea, and you can trust me on that."
"See, I outwitted you again!"
Stavian nods to the Masked Cat, "Many of my sincerest thanks for your attempts to the lighten the mood, Lady Cat. It is good to know that I am in the blessed company of those with manners ... for the most part."
Turning to the Winter Drake and raising his glass, "Your measurement of mood and timing have only enhanced a performance that has no peer in my recent memory. Anyone who would think otherwise has no taste or decorum."
When the Grand Prince turns to the Merchant, it is with concerted effort. "My public works create plenty of trade domestically. Many craftsman were contracted to build Stavian's Hold, and in following that, many unskilled laborers were hired to do the physical work. Anyone involved with the project has more money to spend, which will bolster trade and increase raw taxes. I'm so sorry to hear that Qadira was not able to burrow in and take all of the profits from my country's improvements.
"As to the wealth of my nobility, look around, Merchant. We have no want for gold and jewels. The finest materials are all around you."
"You make interesting points about my being in charge. You are correct, madam. I am. I am the Grand Prince of Taldor. A ruler, but a steward. It is my responsibility to look after the needs of the people, for if they starve, freeze, or die of pestilence, then I should find myself without a throne of substance, or worse, without a head. I believe you stumbled upon the fatal flaw of your economics, and proved my point about the world wound excursion: 'By the time they all go broke...' If I were to bleed my countrymen dry, I would be King Nothing, for that's what Taldor would be. Nothing -- with my empty and useless ivory tower sitting on top of it. A strong nation flush with resources and currency make for a strong ruler."
"The only person you have outwitted this time, is yourself."
"It is their great weakness, sister, and why the Lady Morilla swims upriver," her brother replies slowly, his tone kept carefully neutral, "The Even-Tongued Conquest itself was as much seizing an opportunity created by Taldor's foolish military belligerence abroad as it was brilliant military and diplomatic maneuvering by then-Governor Aspix....
The hostess nods before adding a comment. "Seizing an opportunity, the two of you are certainly correct about that. It was so brilliant that, if my memory serves, the man who wielded the knife received his own holiday."
She has some more of the wine before continuing. "I am not certain of the effectiveness of Lady Morilla's grand gesture. Should the Empire muster its forces, or should it rely on, as the Twins advise, the spoken word? Is it perhaps time to let Andoran take on the mantle of valiant protector? Or Cheliax? I am no strategist, thus my need to inquire."
The Grand Prince thinks for a moment, and then chuckles toward the snow princess. "I find the alternatives to our quest rather bleak, don't you? Who are the nations with the power and the resource to take up the sword? Qadira? Only a fool would put any faith into that crusade. The Qadirans are the ultimate capitalists. They value money over all else, and as soon as the financial gain ran out, Avistan would quickly find itself vulnerable. The Chelaxians? I shudder to think about a world living under their "order" and "justice," if the things I've seen and read are true. The Andorans? HAH! Those fools actually think that the uneducated rabble should govern themselves. The chaos is many orders of magnitude above worrisome.
"No, while it may be expensive, and UNDOUBTEDLY a risky maneuver, I believe our expedition to fight the abyss and bolster Mendev's forces is the right move. The consequences for taking a second seat on this, I think, are much too dire."
Stavian then directs his attention to the female twin, "I thank you for your kind greetings, my lady." Leaning in close and whispering, "I hope you are not injured." Stavian turns to the male twin, "Quite right, you are. I thank you, for I'd not want my ego inflated overmuch at this lively, and ... controversial party."
The hostess takes a moment to look around at her gathered guests, and visibly changes her mind during the appreciation of the Dark Lady's toast. "Actually, that would make a lovely topic, the future of Taldor and what we can do to assist," she says, at an appropriate moment.
"Thus far, the Society, the organization that binds many of us, has largely stayed away from Taldan business. But we as individuals, with our accumulated wealth, talent, and skill, can obviously do plenty, and we can likely employ utilize our influence with the Society to employ its resources. We all speak of support for the Princess, but what can we do? What sort of ideas or plans have you, my worthy guests, thought of or put into place?"
"AHA! I believe I've found you out, Princess." The Prince says, ever playful in his tone. "Is this a party, or a political rally?"
Stavian, obviously not wanting to make things too contentious, floats out of the conversation at-large, and over to the Qadiran merchant. He says a bit under his breath, and in a more serious tone "My lady, please forgive my dismissive treatment of you, for a moment I had been perturbed by your taunt, forgetting that this is a masquerade, and thinking your words to be honest." Stavian then returns to his light demeanor and boyish smile. "I believe your exemplary disguise and superb acting skill has outwitted me!"
The Snow Princess smiles as a response to the Grand Prince's compliment. "I warmed by your words, your Majesty," she replies, playfully hiding her face behind her white ladies' fan as if she were overly blushing in the presence of the Grand Prince.
She curiously takes the offered note and tilts her neck to read it. She seems to look down her nose while reading it, as if she were either scoffing at the note's author or she were looking through an invisible pair of eyeglasses.
"A friend of a friend, I see," she says, as she folds the note. "You seem quite different from our mutual friend. I am curious, how did you meet?" she asks.
"His Holiness? Ah, yes. Fine Dwarf; I believe we met just before, ahem, I joined the Pathfinders." Stavian, for just a fraction of a moment, looks uncomfortable. He immediately returns to his playful smile.
Sense Motive Check:
Bluff:1d20 + 4 ⇒ (13) + 4 = 17
Surpassing his bluff check tells you that, having never been to one of Lady d'Apcher's masquerades, Stavian is unsure how far he should step out of character in order to tell his story.
"Yes, Father mostly left me to oversee our estate while he argues on end in the Senate. I was bored, and I met his Holiness in a local tavern. He noted that I had some magical skill that might help the world. I wasn't interested in the Pathfinders, initially. They're known as tomb robbers, and not for their over concern for the lives of their agents. But honestly, something grabbed me when he said:" Stavian clears his throat, attempting a terrible Dwarf accent. " 'Have ye ever been on a real adventure, hmmm? Have ye, lad?' Then he began to regale me with tales of dungeon delving and demon killing, while showing me scars. Within a week, I had joined basic training. Morgrym remained a bit of a mentor. I came to him for advice when I could. He's a very giving man, but opinionated. Tends to have a moral bone to pick with everyone. But enough about him. My lady, you are radiant, and your party lively. I shall be delighted to meet your other guests."
Stavian motions to the others that are beginning to address him. Turning to Lady Tigress, nodding in respectful salutation, "Lady Tigress, you honor me with your words. I find my ego inflated to hear that my reputation has spread so far to the southern tips of Garund. I hope that you shall find this evening that I live up to the tales you have heard in faraway Mwangi."
The Grand Prince notes the Drake musician and smiles. "The music is splendid, the snow drift a both fitting and marvelous effect."
It becomes obvious that the Grand Prince heard the Merchant's taunt, but is strictly ignoring her.
The hostess lets out a gentle laugh upon the entrance of the Grand Prince, expressing her delight as she approaches her latest guest.
"Your Majesty," she addresses her guest, along with a curtsey fit for a royal greeting. "We are all amazed and honored by your presence this evening," she adds, clearly enjoying the feeling of basking in illusion. A masked servant brings the Grand Prince a glass of the current wine while the Snow Princess gestures to the gathered guests. "We are in the midst of the first round of the night's games. The state of the game is quite tense, as only one player has been knocked out so far. I am genuinely wondering who will come out on top this round."
"My lady, you are as chilling as you are beautiful," The Prince says, denoting her fine and very frostily decorated costume. The Prince hands the Princess a scroll, containing an invitation and a note. "Please do not let my entrance spoil the round. I LOVE a good sporting game of chance and clever tactic. I should like to observe the rest of the round."
Note to the hostess in the invitation:
Gabi -
Thank ye very much fer the invitation to yer party. Unfortunately, I can nae attend. The temple is overflowin' with orphans durin' these cold months, and a holy man's job is never truly done. I'm sorry I won't be able to see yer grace and beauty while living in yer true element. HAH! Reminds me what a fool I'd make o' meself tryin' to hobknob with ye upper crust pretentious types.
Anywho, given that I can't make it, I've given the invitation to this young nobleman, whom I believe ye know. The Nelthevir estate isn't far from yers, and Ozuman here is the family's oldest son. Eh, I think ye'd like him more than me anyhow. Better schooled in the ways of etiquette, and less preachy ;). I'm sure he'll make a fine addition to yer guests.
Well now Joseph is cryin' about bein' hungry. I should get back to it. Happy Winter's Veil, Gabi. May the Great Father bring you all the boons ye hoped for.
A man of average build and height with brown hair, a thick beard, piercing blue eyes, and a clever smile enters the hall. He has a commanding, regal presence. He wears the finest robe of silks, velvets, and gold thread. Adorned across him is a plethora of jewelery made with gold, platinum, and many precious jewels. Atop his head sits a large, overbearing, and easily recognizable crown.
Before the regal man is another man; hulking and towering as if he were nearly double the size of the bearded royal. The large man is dressed in a fine military uniform. He clears his throat, "Presenting ... the master of all Taldor, and Lord of all he surveys, His Majesty Grand Prince Stavian III!"
DC 28 Perception:
to determine that this is a costume.
As he walks forward of his herald, he proclaims:
"Good evening to all. I assume that there is a place at the table for me."
I apologize for being late and the lack of a proper Stavian avatar
