NPC Metella Rauger's page

I'm sure the society would be counted among the customers interested in the better merchandise. Can I trust you to be so kind as to put in a good word to your Venture-Captain, then?

The ship steers close to the bank, and as Dorn wades through the water to retrieve the gemstones and gold in the cache, Metella responds

We have our old network, and offer the better quality goods. Now this man and his upstart traders come in a drive our customers away with cheaper wares. Nobody values good quality anymore.

Metella frowns at the overt and obvious move Temel makes, and hastens to make her own offer:

Yes, Temel has his bejeweled fingers in many pies and can offer cheaper wares, but consider the advantages of a business relationship with my mercantile concern: our network is many centuries old, and the quality of our goods is unrivaled. Furthermore, an arrangement with a firm with such deep roots in the Five Kings Mountains would reinforce the military alliance the Society is already negotiating.

She tries to get the favour of Dorn, by handing him a potion of bear's endurance.

Metella dismisses Temed's plans rather disdainfully: Pff. Any Razmiran worth his salt will see straight through that. Why don't we give them a taste of their own medicine, and disguise you as religious pilgrims. They're sure to give you the proper respect, and you'll be free to move about.

There is obvious tension in the air between Temel and Metella, and each would surely see it as a personal victory should the adventurers choose their side.

That is a foolish plan! Stopping at Xer would give the authorities the chance to search our ship, and we would be uncovered. I say we take our chances with the faith barges.

Metella says, as she looks at the heroes for support.

One of the dwarves, a redheaded female in deep scarlet robes, curtly interrupts the man: "We can introduce ourselves, Passad.

I am Metella Rauger, representing the interests of several Highhelm mercantile consortia. My companion" she gestures to a dwarves man with leathery skin baked by the sun, his head swathed in a bright yellow scarf -

These are some precious stones Metella points out. A quick appraisal, and she tell you they are worth about 400 to 500 gp in total. Which you'll find on your chronicle sheet at the end

It is clear that you have an eye for quality goods, Zalanda. Giving a sneer to Temel, she adds, Quality that this man's goods cannot bring.

Metella doesn't hesitate to chime in with her pitch, now that Zalanda has given her such an excellent opportunity:

“Yes, Temel has his bejeweled fingers in many pies and can offer cheaper wares, but consider the advantages of a business relationship with my mercantile concern: our network is many centuries old, and the quality of our goods is unrivaled. Furthermore, an arrangement with a firm with such deep roots in the Five Kings Mountains would reinforce the military alliance the Society is already negotiating.”

I'd guess the pilgrims here wear humble robes. Just like these two did pointing at the enforcers. I believe the higher clergy here gets carried away every now and then, though. They would prefer the fancier stuff.

Metella dismisses Temed's plans rather disdainfully: Pff. Any Razmiran worth his salt will see straight through that. Why don't we give them a taste of their own medicine, and disguise you as religious pilgrims. They're sure to give you the proper respect, and you'll be free to move about.

That is a foolish plan! Stopping at Xer would give the authorities the chance to search our ship, and we would be uncovered. I say we take our chances with the faith barges.

Metella says, as she looks at the heroes for support.

and Metella adds:

All foreigners are subject to sundry tariffs and unannounced inspection.

One of the dwarves, a redheaded female in deep scarlet robes, curtly interrupts the man: "We can introduce ourselves, Passad.

I am Metella Rauger, representing the interests of several Highhelm mercantile consortia. My companion" she gestures to a dwarves man with leathery skin baked by the sun, his head swathed in a bright yellow scarf -