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Perception
The rest of the room dissolves into a blur as Percy observes two monstrous worms bursting through the floor! He remains eerily composed with his mind already working, calculating. With a low, almost amused chuckle that carries just a shade too much darkness, Percy extends a hand and channels his supernatural will, attempting to arrest one of the creatures “Let’s not ruin the drapery just yet,” he murmurs coldly, eyes glinting as otherworldly compulsions emanate from him. vs BLUE
As the strange gnome concludes, Percy quietly notes the awkward vandalism of the lodge and the curious lack of any real historical engagement of significance with the person the group is meant to assess. Before he can speak, the Elven ambassador chimes in smoothly, his voice light and totally not deflecting - "So, we have heard a fair bit about prudence and sensible choices—clearly, he’s demonstrated a knack for selecting the right talent for the right job, and has marshalled his resources with commendable care." He smiles diplomatically, the words just flattering enough...
“Well, when it comes to my adventures, they are many and varied,” Percy begins with a fond, almost theatrical air. “I started as a slightly eccentric academic with a strong preference for fieldwork, and now find myself a Senator of Taldor—landed, titled, and proudly of the esteemed Blakros family, with all the connections and implications that carries. I’m also honoured to be a trusted confidante of Lady Gloriana Morilla.” He sips his tea before continuing. “My work with the Society has touched on its most delicate affairs, including efforts to foil the murderous schemes of Grand Prince Stavian the third — matters that demanded absolute discretion.” “As for Hestram,” he says, lowering his voice just a touch, “when the Black Marquis of Deadbridge lost all the men he could trust during a failed treasure hunt into the Echo Woods, it was the Pathfinder Society he turned to — and Adril Hestram who entrusted me with completing the task. And it was completed.” He pauses, letting the weight of that rest. “Later, when the King Xeros of Old Azlant—an immense crystalline vessel—suddenly appeared in the harbour, Adril once again recognised the significance, and sent me and a handpicked crew aboard. Trusted agents, great minds—to ensure the truth of it wasn’t lost to bluster or panic.”
Know Nature “Then that is the insignia of the Woodsedge Lodge” Percy offers “Each Pathfinder Lodge has its own glyph, bit like a signature, really, if a house could sign things” His gaze shifts to the garden. “And these” he explains the roses origin “Narven’s Tears, roses thought lost for centuries. Extinct, they said. Yet here they are, stubborn and divine, just quietly thriving. Marvellous.”
Well, Eliza has sent us off to our 3 rooms (so that's pairs and the expectation to double up), and the inference is that whilst the Talespinning was that night, the expectation seems to be we will stay over - so I think we're just 'in game' organising that through some light roleplay. We are also waiting on some updates on our exploration as we were free to explore the lodge.
Percy
Percy notes the exchanged glances but makes no show of it, instead gliding toward the finer finger foods, which he places modestly and neatly onto a plate alongside a perfectly poured cup of tea “Boffins is terribly fond of apple-based treats, would there happen to be apple pie?” he inquires casually of one of the helpers, his tone light and expectant. “Yes, I’m all too familiar with the goings-on in Galt,” he adds conversationally, “I recently had the misfortune of dealing with Major Indiscretion—the Andoran himself—and a near encounter with a Final Blade. Nasty business. Rather a lot of deaths. Very untidy.” Those with sharp eyes may notice that while Percy collects his plate with the poise of a seasoned diplomat, he never actually eats. A sandwich is placed down while adjusting a cuff, a biscuit quietly abandoned while picking up a napkin, each item discreetly offloaded under the guise of perfect social grace. “We shall drop our baggage in our lodgings and have a bit of an explore!” he announces brightly. “Come now, did you see that stuffed creature? Fascinating—clearly demands closer inspection!”
***---***---*** After a brief, silent exchange with Percy—no more than a glance and the faintest twitch of a wing—Boffins suddenly floods everyone’s thoughts with a lazy yet unmistakably pointed telepathic message: “Something’s odd. Eliza and Osprey just shared a little look—furtive, knowing. The kind you only see when people are hiding something. Lord Percy guesses they know more about this ceremony than they’re letting on.” The faerie dragon hovers a little higher, wings beating slowly, eyes half-lidded but watchful.
As Shau throws the question on the table the polished diplomat says nothing, a slight arch of Percy’s brow and the faintest curl at the corner of his mouth suggest intrigue. He watches his fellow Pathfinder’s bold, almost brazen delivery with quiet amusement, not disapproval, but genuine interest. It’s not his style, of course, Percy prefers precision and layered tact, but there’s something undeniably refreshing about throwing questions into the open like a gauntlet. Reckless, perhaps, but occasionally effective.
Initially buoyed by the smell of stew drifting through the lodge, Percy appeared quietly optimistic, perhaps there would be hors d’oeuvres or canapés, or at the very least a high tea with proper finger sandwiches - cucumber, no crusts, or even (gods willing) a delectable filling of coronation chicken. Sadly, such delicacies appear conspicuous by their absence, and the huge oak table offers no succor from imminent death by deprivation. A slight sigh, nearly imperceptible, escapes him as he adjusts the cuffs of his travel coat with resigned elegance. Offering a dignified nod of greeting to Osprey, Percy turns his attention to the Lady of the Lodge “Venture-Captain Petulengro, our instructions were clear - deliver the Pale Maiden to this lodge, and in particular, to you. We’ve ensured its arrival safely, exactly as directed. Now, if you would be so kind, we would like to complete its transfer into your care.”
"Nice painting, perhaps we can compare notes later - I'm somewhat of an artist myself...though my studies of the Gates Ajar has left me with quite a vivid imagination" Percy reflects politely, but with a peculiar gleam in his eyes. *** Percy maintains his polished smile though inwardly puzzled. If this were merely a selection or promotion process, surely it could have been done in Absalom, far safer, and far more comfortable. He could have retired each evening to his mansion in the Petals District, instead of being hauled out here to the wilds. Wispil was also acceptable; Oppara was tolerable. But this? Not even on the list of acceptable places. “Promotions, you say?” Percy arches a brow “Well, lovely to think my voice might carry some weight in such matters, though I can’t imagine why the Decemvirate would seek the counsel of this particular politician. I’m hardly an impartial party, my allegiance to the Empire of Taldor is hardly a secret, and my... shall we say, less publicised associations... might lead some to assume I represent external interests, even where none are intended.” He pauses with a small, diplomatic shrug. “Still, if they are asking, I shall, of course, offer my thoughts with all the clarity, balance, and grace expected of a Blakros. Which is to say, entirely unbiased and just subtly terrifying.” He stresses a few words with politeness, but with an undeniable tone of 'are these people kidding?'
As the gnome and the serpent complete their impassioned case for snacks and sustenance, Percy gestures toward the small painting “Famished, my companion is and verging on delirium, judging by the brushwork. A tragic study in neglect.” He casts a knowing glance toward Adril, his tone playfully dramatic “Surely the good Venture-Captain has our mid-afternoon aperitifs prepared? Before this slip of a gnome slips off her mortal coil entirely due to starvation and a tragic lack of finger sandwiches.”
Percy and Boffins pause briefly, taking stock of the room with a practiced sweep. As Adril steps forth, Percy’s face brightens with a warm smile “Adril! A pleasure as always though I must say, it was less an order and more of a very strongly worded suggestion. You know how the Ten are.” he gives a slight feigned chuckle “As for the servants, well, bless them. They do have such vivid imaginations, don’t they? You could have a season at the local tavern stage with the tales they spin. But as for the Pale Maiden any such business is a matter for Venture-Captain Eliza Petulengro, I’m afraid. Bureaucracy gone mad, naturally, but there we have it.” He offers a courteously but with a genuinely regretful note “So I must politely decline the request. Dreadfully unromantic, I know.” “Now, there will be swords waved about shortly, I’m certain, but we are fresh from the road. Might I suggest refreshments and lodgings as the first order of business? Perhaps even, dare I dream, sandwiches? Crusts off, of course, and tea? I like the one from Wispill, black tea with a hint of bergamot” He smiles with gentlemanly grace, though the expectation in his tone is unmistakably pointed.
Fortune - once per day sadly - "Once a creature has benefited from the fortune hex, it cannot benefit from it again for 24 hours". Mistfortune - "Whether or not the save is successful, a creature cannot be the target of this hex again for 1 day" What is handy is that if we del with multiple creatures we have multiple options - and can sequence our assault - eg Ill Omen/Evil eye, Misfortune, Ice Tomb. Hitting sometething like that in a round is pretty horrible. Percy also has things like haste and fireball, with a bit of healing thrown in - so the hexes are a side benefit.
Percy chuckles, returning Tessara’s grin with one of his own “I’ve been in covens, choirs, and conspiracies, though none quite so suspect as the Taldane Senate. And let’s not even begin on the Blakros family weddings—if you thought our museum was cursed, try attending our family functions. You'll need a knife and I don't refer to the cutlery” He pulls a small, crested card from his sleeve and checks the names, “I believe we’re waiting on one more - Shau Lynne. Mysterious name, no title which I find deeply intriguing. Shall we give them a moment, or flip a coin and press on dramatically?”
Boffins hovers in a slow, deliberate circle above Tessara, his rainbow wings catching the light as shimmering trails of hallucinogenic mist curl lazily behind him. He narrows his eyes at Zeriah with the amused scrutiny of one familiar sizing up another—then offers a slow, knowing smile that suggests secrets only familiars share. Percy, watching the exchange, arches an eyebrow and turns to Tessara with a smirk. "Are we starting a coven, Miss Tess? Because if so, I really must update my wardrobe."
Percy, clearly pleased by the constructive conversation between the children of the Shoanti and Belkzen, looks genuinely heartened. “How marvellous to be part of such a forward-thinking team, bridging divides and sharing stories” he muses aloud with a satisfied nod. When Tessara appears, he turns with an amused glint in his eye and offers a courteous bow. “A pleasure indeed, Miss Tess. Anyone who can knit at that speed clearly has the reflexes of an assassin. And the monkey, I presume, handles reconnaissance?” He eyes Zeriah with playful suspicion.
Lord Blakros raises an elegant brow as the towering half-orc dismounts, and with a twinkle in his eye, steps forward with outstretched hand and an approving nod. “Marvellous entrance, my dear fellow! Positively gladiatorial.” He gestures broadly to the dinosaur. “And what a magnificent beast! You must tell me where you got him—one hears such dreadful things about the stables in Absalom these days.” “An orc of Belkzen and a Pathfinder? Your presence does the Society credit, Mörök.Besides, if things do go terribly wrong, I’d feel much better knowing you were between me and whatever horror emerges from the darkness. My tailor would be furious if I died in this outfit.” "Who else do we have here?" Lord Blakros casts a quick glance between the Shoanti warrior and the orc of Belkzen, his smile effortlessly disarming. “Ah, a Shoanti and a Belkzen orc in the same party—how boldly historic of us. Now, I quite understand there’s old blood and older grudges between your peoples, but I expect Pathfinder loyalties supercede any tribal unpleasantness? If we're to survive this, I’ll need both of you focused on enemies outside the campfire.” He straightens his cuffs. “Besides, it would be dreadfully inconvenient to get blood on these robes.” "And a gnome with a spectacular serpent clearly not from around here, you aren't from Wispill? Hmm, no further afield. Not trouble, just trying to place the accent"
A shimmer of arcane energy dances through the air like sunlight on glass. Then, with a gentle pop, a butterfly-winged dragon materialises midair, wings beating with slow, deliberate grace. proclaims the faerie dragon telepathically, every syllable dripping with pride as though he himself had earned the titles. Moments later, a tall elven gentleman arrives in a sweep of fine silk and effortless poise. His attire is a masterclass in high fashion—cut in the latest court style, embroidered with subtle patterns of lions, laurels, and arcane sigils. A beautifully crafted longsword rests at his hip, more symbol than weapon (though it looks as though it has seen some use). A Blakros crest brooch fastens his cloak, beneath which rests a more subdued pin etched with an Ulfen rune. He surveys the company with a warm, practised smile—charming without effort, and brimming with positivity and benevolence. “Well, what a glorious day for a dash of adventure, eh? One does miss it, dreadfully—Senate work is all debates, paperwork, and keeping a straight face while people speak utter nonsense.” He chuckles lightly, brushing an imaginary speck from his sleeve. “Still, one must serve as well as sparkle. Now then—Galt! Nasty, nasty business. Chaos masquerading as reform, but all that beheading carrying on, as though that was the answer to anything other than more beheadings and further violence of the unchecked masses - you cant behead your way to greatness, doesn't work, or the Orcs of Belkzen would have a great empire now wouldn't they. The Andorans would never accept it anyway" He pauses, glancing around the room expectantly. “But never mind all that—are there refreshments? Cucumber sandwiches, perhaps? No crusts, naturally. Can’t save the world on an empty stomach.” “Come now, let’s see what the Pathfinder Society has cooked up for us. I do so enjoy being useful… in style.” he heads towards the entrance.
1) Player name:Shifty
Percy continues his wicked cackle. (extends Trokus fortune) He looks at the green-tinged Pakalchi. DC20 Will save -Misfortune
Diplomacy "Because we aren't here to kill you we're here to get you home in one piece, but if you keep making a lot of noise it is going to draw a lot of attention we'd rather avoid - and you'd rather avoid if you want to stay alive" "The Lion Blades of Taldor send their regards" "Your early demise in Galt would create political fallout we'd rather avoid, despite you bringing it on yourselves by forgetting what the Andoran experiment was all about and, by your actions, leading the good Major into yet-another rash decision. Seems he isn't here with you and that complicates matters" "We're going to walk you out of here, and that means you need to follow directions. Remain quiet, and try and look like you are being walked off for an early noose" Percy inspects the prisoners for any chains or shackles that might need to be removed or rigged to be able to be thrown off in a hurry.
"Or perhaps you'd indulge my curiosity, comrade Gardener, and at least show us his companions. I am keen to see what sort of people they are, it is concerning that Colson has been moved as that was never the agreement and shows that it is right we arrived - in their zeal our comrades are collecting weeds early and we can't have more of that" "Don't worry about your cards, we can come back to it, come now comrade - lead the way to the cells. These good folk can stay playing cards and maintain the watch here, I have a suitable escort party." Percy gestures to the door, and makes to leave, clearly directing Estienne to follow him.
Music appears out of nowhere... "Another fine evening in the ongoing liberation of the Great People of Galt, comrade. I am Frederic, and these fine citizens are a few of our fine proletariat, strong hands to assist with the weeding of the great garden. There are a number of important prisoners here and we have been sent to ensure they stay well secured and no citizens storm this place in righteous anger and execute them early - you know how passionate the hearts of those who have loved and lost so much for the cause can be. I can't blame them, who could not admire such righteous zeal? You...do agree of course?" "I suppose it is a complicated matter, the 'Andoran experiment' was a path to seek freedom and liberty for its people, however we can see it was doomed to failure as they only took half measures - one must be prepared to cut out the rot with a sharp blade, not just try to cover it with perfume and hope the smell fades on its own. I am curious of this Colson person, have you spoken with him? What sort of fellow is he?" "And is this a closed game or are you dealing us in?" Bluff
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