Search Posts
Hey, I am back, but I've not had time to read over what's happened in my absence and get caught up. I did manage to level Tanglefoot up. I hope to jump back in this weekend. I guess the old bard bumped his head kind of hard when he was whisked away by magic or whatever happened exactly.
Tanglefoot finds his senses, and realizes the best thing he can probably do here is try to inspire his comrades to courageous action. His normally joking tone shifts to a new rhetorical mood, and his deep baritone voice booms out. "Heed my words, bold comrades in arms, we shall not die this day. Treachery and treason seep from the highest ranks, and the king trying to kill his country, but we shall not falter. Fight now for primogeniture, democracy, and common sense!"
So, I'm possibly misremembering, but do we have our weapons and gear?
Tanglefoot gives a suprised, wordless shout. He looks around at his companions, his eyes wide in disbelief. "All things considered... what was the point of that?" he says after a moment, loudly, confused. "And don't say the one on the dagger."
Tanglefoot remains intensely focused on the Grand Prince's words.
Tanglefoot follows the group, nervous about the Grand Prince's response to the vote. While the decision on primogeniture is a wonderful development, the Galtan expatriate knows well how quickly democratic reform can turn to disaster as counter-revolutionaries do their worst to stem the tide of change.
Tanglefoot, who had watched the entire encounter with subdued pleasure, finally steps forward to rejoin his party, as it were. "Well," says Tanglefoot, "If it does get serious, I, at least, will stand by you," he hesitates, expecting derisive laughter that he'd be of any use in combat, and continues, "Please hold your laughter until the end of the performance. And I wouldn't be so sure that things will be as urbane as you suggest. I've known more than one petit bourgeouis would wouldn't hesitate to hire a pair of crossbowmen to ambush you if you so much as insulted their horse. But as Olivia says, she is the daughter of a Senator, after all. I'm no more fond of all this pageantry than you, but I know the way the wind blows. Mind you don't make the wrong enemies. I know something about that."
Tanglefoot decides to spend the rest of the evening entertaining the children and any nobles that happen to come to check on them. He also chats and jokes with Wysillka, and tries to follow her lead in the entertainments, as a guest.
Tanglefoot smiles, and his voice goes to nearly a whisper, as he continues to joke with the halfling, rather treasonously, "As I understand it, the Grand Prince is like a little baby bird, and he gobbles up whatever the High Strategos regurgitates."
"Did you ever hear the one about the time the Grand Prince asked me to tell a joke, and I just shrugged? I'm just a court gesture, after all."
"Alright, alright, so that was a pretty bad joke. But some people are having worse nights. Its fair to say that the Grand Prince is having a bad heir day."
When Tanglefoot is finished eating dinner, he heads back up to the Gallery to visit with Wyssilka, still harboring hopes of befriending the interesting halfling. "So," he says to her when he makes his way to her, "Am I still the most interesting thing you've seen tonight? I saw the High Strategos swallow a baby whole earlier." He says the last part with utter sincerity and nonchalance as if it were nothing.
Okay, I'm back. So, long story short I have been homeless the last 10 days. The house my housemate and I had previously rented was purchased and we had to leave with little notice, but we were able to find a place where we were supposed to be able to move in on August 23rd. However, as it got close to the end of the month I was informed that we wouldn't be able to move in until September 10, today. To make it worse we had some internet issues the last few days of the month, so I wasn't really even able to give the warning I'd hoped I could to my players and GMs. It isn't as bad as it sounds, I was able to find friends and family that would let me crash on couches and spare rooms during that time, but I have not had the opportunity to post. That said, today I was able to get moved in to the new place and I finally have an office again. So, barring any other disasters (which, based on the way this year is going for me, are likely), I should be back to normal. I'm sorry for any issues I caused. I'm still interested in playing Tanglefoot, if you'll have him.
Tanglefoot is disappointed that he was unable to find out anything more about the High Strategos, but he is nothing if not persistent. He decides to remain where he is and continue spying on Pyhthareus. He keeps an eye out for his companions, looking for an opportunity to pass on what he has learned so far.
Tanglefoot tries to think up a way to use his skills as a performer to impress Wyssilka as he makes his way back downstairs and towards the Arcade of Triumphs. He stops at a table and procures an empty, or nearly empty bottle, and then proceeds to rub his cheeks and nose furiuosly with his hands, trying to redden his face. He then continues on to the Arcade of Triumphs, doing his best to appear intoxicated as he enters the room. He finds a seat somewhat near where the High Strategos is positioned, and feigns falling asleep from drunkenness. He secretly tries to listen in on Pythareus's conversations.
Tanglefoot decides to linger in the gallery for a little longer, still highly intrigued by the halfling Wyssilka the Fantabulous. He mulls over his coffee, thinking about how he might become friends with her.
"Before everyone runs off," says Tanglefoot, "When I was up here earning favor, I also earned some dough. And was given some lovely gifts. Here, never hurts to have a little extra cash on hand at a gala, you never know who you'll need to bribe." The fool redistributes his newfound wealth among the six adventurers, giving everyone 20 gold pieces. "Also have this wand. Can anyone identify it?"
Tanglefoot returns to the gallery at Martella's signal. Should be a good chance to share what we've learned, he thinks to himself. He smiles broadly at Wyssilka as he passes and joins the gang in Martella's alcove. The bard takes a seat, fills a mug with coffee, and sips carefully before going for the sugar and cream, heaping on loads of each.
After Chana answers, Tanglefoot says "I've had mixed success myself. I'm popular up here, as may be expected, but I can't seem to figure out what exactly makes that halfling tick," as he gestures to Wyssilka. He thinks for a moment, "Oh, and I remembered that the High Strategos is a great lover of horses. In a normal way, that is. Maybe in a weird way too, I don't know. But anyway, if you try to make friends with him, horsemanship and horse-rearing might make for good topics of discussion." He looks around the table for a snack before continuing, "I haven't seen him doing anything suspicious yet, but I'll keep watching him."
I was wondering something similar. If that doesn't work, could Bluff be used to try to concoct some story about the items needed to be taken away for cleaning or restoration or something? Also I want to second Chana's comments about your performance as GM so far. Your responses are incredibly detailed, and it really helps get the feeling of being at a large social event with lots of interesting personalities.
Tanglefoot smiles as his new friend goes off, and makes his way down the stairs, back to the Arcade of Triumphs to keep tabs on the High Strategos. He thinks to himself how he might ingratiate himself with Pythareus. He hopes he will still be tolerated after the jests he conducted earlier. He tries to remain as unnoticeable as a fool can, simply standing quietly to one side.
"Hmm," says Tanglefoot to Wyssilka, "Split the gold, I'd say, and then I'd like the wand. You can have the bottle of brandy if you like. Sound fair?" "I've got to mingle," he continues, But I must say that it was a great pleasure to make your acquaintance, most fantabulous one. Could you do me a favor and let me know if you see anything strange going on?"
"What a wonderful name! And your makeup is fittingly fantabulous. I saw one of those creatures, a ratchet they call them I believe, once in a menagerie in Absalom, brought over from Arcadia. They look like little bandits with masks on, and they wash their food before eating," Tanglefoot laughs. "But yes, I believe I have a little time for some cavorting and capering. Shall we put on a little duo performance to show this lot what true entertainers can do?" He begins to explain ideas for a routine that involves Tanglefoot throwing the halfling into the air, and continually almost failing to catch her (acting like he forgot she was in the air...falling on his rear again and letting her bounce off his big belly, etc), as she performs her own series of hilarious gestures and tricks while in the air.
Tanglefoot decides to leave the High Strategos to his own devices for a moment and sate his curiosity. At the beginning of the gala he had seen a troupe of halfling acrobats entertaining some children, and they had gone up to the gallery. He decides he simply must make their acquaintance, and try his own hand at making the children laugh. He himself was a fair acrobat, and he liked to combine it with his skill for comedy in a slapstick act that involved making himself appear to become injured in a variety of ways, a routine that children, drunks, and even dogs always seemed to find hilarious. He makes his way up the staircase to the observation deck, glancing at Countess Pace and her companion before moving over to the where the children and halflings were gathered, and begins to entertain.
"Ladies and gentlehalflings, boys and girls, members of the press, I greet you. I am Tanglefoot, and I have an important announcement to make. Fun has been cancelled for today, and no one is allowed to laugh anymore up here," he says as he walks towards them, but as he does, he pretends to slip on the floor, falling backward onto his derriere with a loud "OOF!" He makes standing up a trial, as he pretends to slip and tumble around another half dozen times, once doing a flip before landing on his belly and bouncing slightly, before he finally is back on his feet, rubbing his butt and grimacing as if in great pain.
Lol, oops.
I believe it was something like this: Aide- Olivia Discovery- Damrak Fraud- Fraud Spy- Tanglefoot Theft- Amandine Politicking- Khalil Sabotage- Amandine Tanglefoot can potentially take theft.
As the Princess begins, Tanglefoot remains close to the High Strategos, to see how Pythareus reacts to the speech.
He notices the servant moving away from the crowd. What could he be doing?, the fool thinks to himself. Noticing Damrak heading over to intercept him, Tanglefoot stays where he is for now, but tries to keep an eye on both Pythareus and the servant.
Yeah, I'm in the same boat as Damrak. I specifically requested that GM Placeholder of Doom run this in our trade-off deal because I knew little to nothing about it (beyond the theme, location, and other stuff that could be gleaned from the Player's Guide), as opposed to most adventure paths, where I've done some combination of reading, running, or playing them. If our GM doesn't return, and we are unable to find a replacement, I'd possibly be interested in your Kingmaker game. I could certainly retool Tanglefoot such that he decided to flee Galt for Brevoy or the River Kingdoms, instead of Taldor.
Tanglefoot gallops forward comically towards his opponent, his arm pointed forward as a lance, and his other arm held aloft as if brandishing a shield.
As the mock riders draw near one another, Tanglefoot takes a magnificent spill onto the floor, as if unseated with great force.
He nimbly leaps to his feat, turns to Pythareus, and bows deeply, like an actor at curtain call.
Tanglefoot pauses his mock joust for a moment to mimic a trumpet sennet, before taking on the role of a herald, "For the next contest here at the Prince's Tourney, we have the greatest horseman in Taldor, the massive and wondrous Grand Duke of Avin. And against him, we have Sir Maxillar Pythareus, a rising star with a bright future. A contest for the ages."
Tanglefoot is of course referring to the famous joust which was the first of the eleven championships the High Strategos won at the Prince's Tourney, where young Maxillar unseated his opponent in the first tilt. He re-assumes his jousting stance and turns to face the noble with whom he had been jesting. "I shall be the Grand Duke, and you shall be the greatest knight of them all, Lord Pythareus." He salutes, and begins trotting forward, with the intention of taking a great fall when they get close, as did the Grand Duke. "Have at thee, upstart!" he shouts, pretending to be the Grand Duke.
"My apologies, my lords, but fools are always stiff somewhere," says Tanglefoot, as he stomps his foot like a charger preparing for a tilt, "Let us re-enact the most famous joust in Taldan history for the High Strategos!"
Tanglefoot makes his way over to where Maxillar Pythareus and the other officers are debating the efficacy of various lances. He dances around, miming a knight riding at a tilt, though he looks more like a child on a hobby-horse. He listens in to the conversation, trying to discern any weakness that could be used against the High Strategos.
Tangle-foot follows the group into the Arcade of Triumphs. He remains silent, with a goofy grin on his face, as he navigates the room, attempting to get eyes on High Strategos Maxillar Pythareus. He intends to find out if this man had any weaknesses. He remains as inconspicuous as possible, doing very simple tricks with prestidigitation and minor slapstick acrobatics, but avoiding anything loud or distracting.
How many of these social rounds will there be, do we know?
"Say no more, madam." says Tanglefoot, with a wink, heading off to the corner. "I hope it's a strip search," he whispers loudly to Damrak.
Don't worry about it. I can't speak for everyone, but I'm having a good time so far. This campaign appears to have a LOT to deal with at the outset as GM, especially in a PbP where everyone can do their own thing. Take as much time as you need.
Curious about the children and halflings, Tanglefoot tumbles across the room with a massive grin on his face, jowls shaking as he moves, doing his best to seem simple, and attempts to join the procession upstairs.
Tanglefoot will go ahead and make his way over to the Senate, and see if he can get an idea of what other entertainers will be performing for the gathered elites.
Tanglefoot is uncertain of what to say to Chana's fearmongering and apparent total distrust and disrespect toward her fellow party members. Watch out for that one, those who don't trust can't be trusted. Olivia is certainly trustworthy, and Tamrak seems a decent fellow, if a teetotaler, despite his poor choice in deities. He wasn't sure about the half-Keleshite. He didn't share the racism embodied by most Taldans against Qadirans, or those who looked like they might be connected to Qadira, so he'd give the man a fair chance. He had little use for those who could not take a joke, so Amandine wasn't someone he thought he'd get along with. But worst of all was this busybody Chana. He simply waits quietly, his apparently stupid smile never leaving his face, while she finishes her strange tirade. For the first time since he met her, he was identifying with Amandine.
"This may be surprising, but I don't get invited very often to galas." says Tanglefoot, as he begins to strip down out of his courtier's outfit, openly in the alley-way, in front of everyone. "I'm just here for the free food, free drink, and free excitement. I will say that I certainly support the abolition of primogeniture, for what it is worth. I wouldn't be a good spokesman for it." As he gets down to his long-johns, and produces a suit of motley from a sack, he continues, "But as you can see, I have nothing to hide, at least nothing you’d want to look at. And after all, it would be rude to refuse an invitation from an aristocrat like Lady Lotheed. Propriety in social circles and pleasing the nobles is always my utmost concern, as a fool." He pulls on his rough-spun trousers and tunic, a colorful but faded array of blues, reds, greens, and yellows.
"Now I'm attired appropriately for what you all must think of me."
Quick question before I make my next post: should we all be disguised as nobles or members of noble households at the gala? Or would Tanglefoot arriving as a fool, as part of the entertainment, be acceptable, and amenable to getting close to some of the nobles?
Ick. Paizo forum is all kinds of crappy today. Lost 2 posts already. Rewriting now >_< Yeah, I've learned to never type into Paizo's forum, just use a notepad file and then copy/paste. Or if you absolutely must, make sure to CTRL-A/CTRL-C before you submit or preview.
Tanglefoot stares at Amandine for a moment, expecting her to laugh and say she was kidding, but seeing that she is serious, he bursts out laughing himself. "As you wish," he says to her, "We all have our indulgences; mine is good food and drink, yours... is wigs? Well, I would wish you luck in poisoning wine, but then again, I want you to fail, so I suppose I won't way anything at all about it." He turns to the paladin. "And fear not Lady Olivia, I'd not overindulge on a night when I must work. I wish that half a bottle of wine could make me tipsy, as it were in the days of my youth, but it is not so."
Tanglefoot seems deep in thought, and then he begins speaking once more. "Well, I suppose I'd best accompany Lady Amandine to the wine cellar. I'll buy a bottle of cheap wine-- some real manticore piss, I'll make sure-- and when we get to the cellar I'll open and drink the good vintage. It sounds like that may be the only way to save it. Then we can refill the bottle with the wine I've procured, and I can use my skills at prestidigitation to reseal the bottle. It'll only last an hour, but that should be ample time, I'd wager." He smiles, "Don't forget to come and get me when you want to head to the cellar."
Knowledge (nobility) checks:
"Well, well, well," says Tanglefoot, "You've got your hands in a lot of baskets, Lady Lotheed. A natural born daughter taking control of her family, what a scandal." He stands, almost as if to go, but then he leans over and places his hands on the table, fingers spread. "I relish scandal." He laughs, a deep, mirthful belly-laugh. "I think I'd be well-equipped as a spy. In fact, I could probably get close to the Most High Strategerian by just being myself. That is, I mean the self that plays the fool. Like servants, fools are always seen but never noticed." He looks down at his clothing. "I guess I may not get to look pretty today after all. Motley maketh man. Perhaps you could make arrangements for me to entertain Sublime Tactician Pissarius." He suddenly drops all smiles and takes on a face of extreme seriousness, that is immediately seen as clearly and blatantly mock seriousness. "There is but a single problem I have with this entire enterprise, but unfortunately it is a major problem. All the tasks you have set before us, though of questionable legality as has been mentioned, are acceptable sins in the face of the great injustices we are fighting to overcome, save one. All are acceptable means to the most just end of ending primogeniture, and reforming Taldor's government in such a way as to restore our nation to the shining city on the hill that it once was, in the days of Aroden, and Iomedae, and General Arnisant..." he nods gravely at Olivia, "...all save one." "The aristocracy, I've always said, is a noble joke. However, wine is no laughing matter. I have always been a godly man, and this planned sabotage, this poisoning of the bottle, would be a mortal sin against my lord and savior Cayden Cailean. Ruining a 150-year old vintage of Opparos is akin to burning down a museum. It matters not who you're embarrassing, or how high and noble the goal you wish to accomplish. It cannot be borne." Throughout his speech his hands are animated, and this last part he gives with the grandest of rhetorical flourishes. He then drops all pretense and lets out another chortle. "I jest, of course, though only halfway. Is there really no other way to embarrass those fops without ruining some good wine? Please don't tell me it's a 4566, or I might actually be struck down by Cayden for associating with even the idea of doing this."
Yes, it is indeed.
Yes, that's reasonable. And yeah, Tanglefoot is big on implying things, rather than being explicit, and he was definitely making implications there.
I should note that Tanglefoot didn't actually say anything about anyone's clothing out loud; italics indicate unspoken thought, at least in my posts.
Thanks! This character took a while to figure out, personality-wise, but I think he's going to be a lot of fun.
"My intentions are noble. But I am indeed a performer, as are we all. Golarion's a stage, and we are merely role-players." Tanglefoot pulls out a chair, and slumps down onto it, crossing one leg over his knee and leaning back.
Tanglefoot snatches Chiara's arm, and the old fool gently kisses her hand. "Ah, but the pleasure is all mine," he says, his eyes twinkling with humor. He looks around. "Indeed, what a noble gathering of us nobles here at this noble place. Ah, what aristocrats are we."
Skill Checks:
The last time I was dressed so well, I was an even greater fool than I am now, Tanglefoot thought as he strode confidently, almost swaggering, down the wide and crowded street. He spotted the cafe where he was to meet with Lady Martella Lotheed, natural daughter of Lord Lotheed. A bastard, I'm sure there's a bawdy story there. I'll have to learn it, the bard thought, a smile flashing across his face, But today I'd best be on my best behavior. Better pretend like I'm a politician again, if only for an hour. He wore a black suit, simple by Taldan standards but nonetheless sharp. His was nonetheless a rather comical image, as usual, due to his rotundity, his general expression, his red nose, and his beard, though he had wagered that he didn't look unlike some middling nobleman for exactly those same reasons. He sang a few lines of an old and ribald song that came to mind as he arrived, his voice deep and joyous, though untrained.
"Well she pulled off her blue silk gown
Bit of a frog in my throat today, he thought. He looked around, and finding the eyes of a serving girl, reached down to his waist, grabbed the tankard hanging there, and raised it to her, "What sort of wine do you have here? Normally I'd have ale, but today I am the landgrave's nephew!" Noticing the similarly overdressed (in his opinion, fancy clothing was always overdressing) group gathering nearby, he realized that he must be late, and that this must be his group. Giving the most exaggerated bow he could muster, a gesture that made it's way from bow to curtsy by the end, he greeted them, "Ah, Lady Martella Lotheed, it is my most sincerest pleasure to make your esteemed acquaintance." He looked over the other arrivals. What a bunch of peacocks! he thought, and a laugh burst out, though he stopped himself from continuing. "And greetings to you lovely turtledoves and turtles. I am Lord Tangle of House Foot. You may call me Tanglefoot." |
