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Prepared
Sitting at a desk and working away in a ledger with a quill-pen sits a tall and regal young man. The pen scratches as he works on a contract. In walks a messenger wearing the tabard of the Pathfinder Society. With a look of vague annoyance the young man puts down his quill and takes the proffered envelope. No doubt some fool errand. Slipping a dagger into the folds and slicing the envelope open he peruses the letter inside. A small smile comes to his face. Under his breath he says A Hellknight Feast. Finally something worthy of my time He picks up the book which lays beside his ledger. Its covers are dull grey and there is a five pointed star embossed onto the cover. Taking his book he leaves the room with a small spring in his step.
A 6 foot tall figure saunters into the lodge. His hair is impeccably styled into the most fashionable pompadour and his clothes are brushed, his buttons gleaming. In his hand he carries an iron-bound tome with the seven-pointed star of Asmodeus embossed on its cover. He moves to the job board, looking through the postings to find a mission. One finds oneself slightly financially embarrassed. Are there any expeditions heading out soon?
Mathos floats to his assigned translation task. With his characteristic air of aristocratic superiority he arogantly assumes that the task is beneath him and manages to confuse the words for Official and Pineapple. This is further compounded when a slip of the tongue turns an invitation to dinner into a proposition of a mature nature.
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