Simulacrum of Vraxeris the Illusionist

Sareth Antirel's page

8 posts. Alias of Laithoron.


"The vicereine's reception?" Sareth repeated to himself, his tone dreamlike.

He gave a short laugh, a crooked smile coming to his face as he shook his head in mild disbelief. When he looked up, he had a genuine smile on his face, nodding as he answered, "Yes, yes that sounds ideal actually. I would be honored to attend such an affair and two guests... why I shall give the matter quite careful consideration, I assure you!"

Although the man still seemed tired from the night prior, there was now an unmistakable energy about him that was lacking when he first arrived at your door. "Oh and yes, The Keg shall do just fine. My personal apartment is located here, after all."

Still somewhat dazed by such an unhoped-for boon, there were a few moments of silence before he remembered himself and asked, "Is there anything else I can provide for you this morning, my friends?"

Before Arion could answer, a familiar figure appeared just outside the open doorway, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Now dressed in a long, burgundy silk robe with a thick, satin collar, Sareth gave a short bow, one hand covering a yawn, before casting a message spell to bypass the sanctum effect.

Arion OR Perception DC 25 (Sasha):
"Yes, my friend, how can I help you this fine morning?"

Perception DC 25
L 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (5) + 9 = 14 alertness
S 1d20 + 12 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 12 + 2 = 34 urban

Sareth bowed low at the compliment, and when the Lady Ourson extended her left hand, he removed his right glove and gently took her hand by the fingers. Resting the tip of his thumb lightly between her knuckles, he laid a kiss there, respectfully planting it on his own thumb rather than daring to brush her hand with his lips.

"You are too kind, your Ladyship. Please extend my hospitality to her Highness as well. It would be my honor to host her next banquet."

As the three of you ascended the stairs, some walking perhaps a bit more gingerly than others, the noise and music from below faded away. Now your footsteps now fell upon luxurious Loxpharian carpet. The mahogany-paneled room in which you found yourselves was as wide as the tavern and shaped like a half-moon. The far wall, curved around, its surface inset with a half-dozen doors, all closed. Between them, hanging from gold-plated rods, were tapestries of far-off lands. Along the straight wall that ran perpendicular to the stairs, there there floor-length, one-way windows of smokey glass that looked out across the balcony and the main floor below.

Beneath the tall, coffered ceiling was a small dance floor, currently vacant, over-sized silk pillows scattered around it for any who might wish to reclined. Above, two chandeliers fashioned from dark, inky crystal, painted the semi-circular room in dusky hues, their magical lights reminiscent of the night sky.

Almost invisible within the intimate dimness, you could make out two more of the giant, ebony-skinned guards, one beside you, another by a similar staircase at the far end of the room. Swiftly and silently, the one beside you relieved the lithe young elf of the chilly urn she carried and walked with her to a doorway at the far end, where upon he knocked twice and entered, setting the urn on a low table beside the woman's silver tray.

The room was reminiscent of a gentleman's solar. Couches upholstered in the finest burgundy leather were arrayed about the room, and there were numerous silken cushions for those who preferred posture of a different kind. With a smile, the woman drew back the hunter-green velvet curtains to reveal a breathtaking view of the palace's south wing, the edifice basked in moonlight.

Arion OR Perception DC 25 (—):
Upon the whispered breath of a message cantrip, you could hear Sareth's voice, "Perhaps later I might offer you my consultation upon these vacancies of which you spoke. I do have the ears of many after all."

[spoiler="Rolls"]Perception DC 25
L 1d20 + 9 - 2 ⇒ (7) + 9 - 2 = 14 noise
S 1d20 + 12 + 2 - 2 ⇒ (6) + 12 + 2 - 2 = 18 urban, noise

Sareth nodded his head, and seemed to brush aside a lock of stray hair, though someone more observant might have noticed it was actually a bead of sweat that he wiped away. "Oh it wouldn't be proper to bill special guests that I myself invited, yet I'm sure her Ladyship appreciates the gesture just the same."

As the military man walked off, heading up a more distant stairway to a still higher floor, the proprietor quickly sized up the situation, the meaning of Sasha's words not lost upon him. "Yes, I can well imagine some privacy might be in order, especially given all you have endured getting here."

Looking up, he spied the elven hostess returning with a silver platter balanced in one hand, and a frosty silver urn containing several bottles hugged against the bare skin of her opposite hip. "Ah, excellent timing, my dear. My friends would like to enjoy some privacy, but they have only just arrived and it would be a long, hard walk ahead of them. Why don't you show them our luxury suites upstairs."

S Bluff 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (15) + 16 = 31

Perception or SM Checks
R 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (6) + 15 = 21
L 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (15) + 9 = 24 alertness
S 1d20 + 12 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 12 + 2 + 2 = 23 human, urban

S Bluff (innuendo) 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (10) + 16 = 26

1d20 ⇒ 4

At King Tut's appearance, Sareth paled visibly as if a rat had just run across the table, "W- where in the Nine Hells did that m- monkey come from?!"

"So," Sareth seized hold of a break in the conversation, he pulled out the chair beside him and addressed Lureene with a smile, nodding for her to be seated, "how are the Princess and you finding Port Eldarion so far, Lady Ourson?"

"Oh dear, forgive me, Lord Minister!" Sareth said as he pushed his chair back to afford his new guests a better view of those already seated with him. In an apologetic tone, he explained, " I forget our Highness and company are newly arrived. My friends, this is Lord Hior Celadrendir, our state's treasurer and a fellow connoisseur of fine culture!"

From the high-backed chair rose a man, dressed in blue and magenta robes fit for a sultan. He wore his light brown hair shoulder-length, bangs neatly styled to frame his not unpleasant countenance and pointed ears. He greeted the three with a bow, arm raised indicating they should be seated.

"Truly the keg is favored by Heaven herself to be graced by the presence of an angel on golden wings. Welcome Lady Ourson, and please, call me Sareth, I insist! Might I have the names of your esteemed companions?"