Hattash of the Windswept Waste's page

I present Occosten, of the Jistka Imperium.

I look forward to his .. political insights.

A robed halfling watches from the saddle of a grotesque red insect, clinging to one of Skyreach's lower spires.

"It is most pleasant to share a little with one's friends."

His hood mostly shades his face, but as it sways aside, there might be a hint of chitinous plates on his cheeks and forehead.

A bumblebee-like buzz sounds from the street outside, shortly followed by the door sweeping open. A dark-robed halfling strides in and directly up to the masked elf, speaking curtly in a tone only for his ears:

A messenger hastens in, handing Hattash a papyrus note marked with Pharasma's spiral. He reads it, twitching his lip in some surprise

"An enlightening chat, but I am requested for a task elsewhere."

He empties his cup in one more draw, rises and bows to the hostess, silver pieces in hand to pay what he owes. With a swift stride, he reaches the door as the chitinous creature climbs down to meet him, its dip of its legs on one side matching Hattash's step in to the saddle almost as one being. A whir of insectile wings, and he is gone

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18

Hattash takes a deep draught of tea, cupping his hands around the vessel to savour the heat and strong flavour.

As the lady gunslinger enters, something flickers momentarily in the halfling's dark eyes. "Your pardon, Bo. The world is small and it is polite to acknowledge those of possible connection."

Leaving his teacup, he walks across within a polite distance of the corner seat, makes a deep, formal bow with palms upraised in the Keleshite fashion, and speaks a few words.

He returns to his seat without waiting for a reply.

Hattash Knowledge (local): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 9
Creature Intelligence: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (3) - 1 = 2

"Peace, yes .. Rewards for my skills are hard to come by in peace, so in this age, I am well paid indeed."

Knowledge(local): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (19) + 7 = 26
If he commits any gaffes, she seems courteous enough to overlook them

"Not all follow the way of magic."
Bluff: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10 not to convey the impression that they probably aren't trying hard enough
"All should learn from the experiences of the brave. They tell the not-as-brave what to avoid, is it not so?"

"The ruins of that country lie east of Taldor, it is true. Taldor remembers less than it should what it owes to us."

"But yes, the new also can be filled with possibilities."

Hattash speaks a few words that are accented as Kelish, but might be originally from another language. "I think in Absalom they call it caravan tea."

Looking up at Bo with a brooding, but seemingly approving assessment, "It is right to respect the customs of others. It was my honour too to lend my art to the rise of one who upholds a long-unbroken tradition. I am Hattash, of a country no longer spoken of."

He extends a hand, clad in a gauntlet covered in needle-like metal spikes. Hattash frowns at it and the spikes flow liquidly into a new form of smooth plates.

A halfling in black desert robes edged with bands of red sigils enters, making a rough but passable Tian-style bow to our hostess. Within his cowl, his face is deeply tanned and his eyes dark and secretive. A dully glowing orange rune of interlocking triangles on his forehead and a pair of glossy red antennae might draw some attention.

A red-carapaced monstrosity can be glimpsed clinging to the ceiling in the corridor outside, politely keeping out of the way.