Zelthier's page

The tiefling sat quietly, watching, observing, keeping an eye on every last person in the little hole-in-the-wall dive the Sczarni had claimed as their meeting place with interest. It really took all sorts, didn't it? A fancy fop of an elf, a tight-lipped bowman, a grandiose arcanist (that certainly seemed to be rather full of himself), yet another sneaky little halfling and... A... Fox? Thing?

Ah, yes, a Kitsune...

The quick-fingered duelist had heard of the creatures during his travels in Tian Xia; shape-changing fox-people with a penchant for trickery, using their sly wiles to get the best of those they targeted with their pranks.

"I wouldn't recommend trying to lighten any purses in here," Zelthier grinned and spoke loud enough to make sure the fox heard him, though he kept his eyes on the cards he continued to shuffle as he watched the crowd, "You may find yourself missing fingers, or more, if you do..."

For all of the fancy hats I had to retrieve for that incompetent Taldan fool (By Asmodeus' goatee, the man couldn't even spell his own name!*), the rest of his faction is now rather indebted to me and mine, despite his *ahem* absence... If you are looking to rule the world, a good way to do so is to ensure that everyone that's anyone owes you enough favors that they are forever in your debt.

*Look at the Season 1 and 2 Taldor faction missions. His name is printed Baron Jacquo, but he signs it Baron Jaquo. Apparently he was too busy admiring his fancy hats to pay attention to how he signs his letters to his minions...

Chuckling, the Devilspawn nodded with a grin, "Ah, yes of course. I am afraid my knowledge of those tribal weapons is fairly limited, but I can show you a few tricks that will keep your opponents on their toes."

"So rumor has it you have an interest in learning how to wield the weapons of my people," a well-dressed man smirked from his seat in the corner of the tavern, his accent and features distinctly Varisian despite the obvious taint of his infernal heritage, "What have you to offer in compensation?"

Idly shuffling an old, well worn, harrow deck in his clawed hands, Zelthier chuckled, "Perhaps we can make a deal. I could teach you how to use these weapons, and in return..." the tiefling looked thoughtful for a moment, his spined tail lazily coiling around a chair leg before he offered Devlin a crooked, fanged, grin, "You can owe me a favor. One to be called in at a later time, of course..."

I'm assuming the Varisian Weapons Training has to do with things like Starknives and Bladed Scarves, yeah?

Though it would be quite the shame to give up such an impressive vessel, even for a brief time, I can certainly see the appeal of returning to the land of the living...

As for the question... I don't know, but it is a good one to ask, to be sure.

Tipping his hat to the woman, Zelthier flashed her one last grin. "Safe travels, Sister, and perhaps we will meet at the crossroads. May your trip be a profitable one."

Sleight of Hand:1d20 + 17 ⇒ (10) + 17 = 27

Before she left, the tricky hellspawn made good use of his prehensile tail to slip a note into Xan's coinpurse under the table, a request from a family member for when she makes landfall in Varisia.

Despite the eye-catching colors and style of his garb, the finely-dressed duelist sat in relative silence, simply observing his "kin" with a smirk. Even as he sat in the midst of all these rag tag, dishonorable at best, pathfinders, he'd abstained from the drinking they all seemed to be engaging in. He liked his drink as much as the next scoundrel, but wisdom had taught him never to let his mental faculties slip in the midst of others of his ilk.

Glancing over as Penn entered their little den of debauchery, Zelthier chuckled. "Ooh," he gave a mock wince as he crossed his legs, though he couldn't quite hide his amusement, "I suppose that's what you get for throwing around false accusations... Well met, Brother."

Alexander_Damocles wrote:

Quit giving Kyle Baird ideas....he just might do it.

At least we know we can all blame Jack if it does happen.

Side note: I dare Zelthier to try and disguise himself as NOT a tiefling for a scenario. I think that would be the most hilarious thing. Like, ever.

Now why would I do that? I am not ashamed of my heritage, so why should I try to hide it, hm?

I'd say this logic applies to far more classes and archetypes than just Undead Lord.

Uh, tieflings?

Well excuuuse me, princess. I have just as much a right to be here as any of those brutish half-orcs do. At least I know how to act in civilized company...

"More like Ironically Taldan..." a well-dressed man in the back of the room muttered under his breath with a snicker, watching the oh-so-proud patriots and their musings. Standing so tall, so full of themselves, so confident in their country and their people's superiority...

His spined tail coiled idly around the leg of his chair, the tiefling thumbed the wide brim of his hat, tilting it back to look around at the others over his boots, so irreverently propped up on the back of the chair in front of him.

"You know," he piped up with a wide, fanged, smirk, voice sporting a definite Varisian accent, "I will give Taldor credit where it is due. I have never met a people so supremely confident in their abilities..."

"Or so arrogant!" chortled the little blue bird sitting on his shoulder, her master's snickering apparently her goal.

Ahh, Varisia... It will be good to be able to travel back home, see old friends and meet new ones.

As always, I shall keep the interests of the family at the forefront of my actions. It simply wouldn't do to go spreading a bad reputation, no?

I look forward to these upcoming missions, and the chance to further our connections in our homeland.

- Z

Smirking at the newly arrived, rather boisterous, sailor, Zelthier tipped his hat in greeting. Though he wasn't much of a seafarer himself, the tiefling had been to Riddleport his fair share of times in his youth as his troupe had traveled from city to city in Varisia, so he did know his way around a boat... Sort of... (Ok, so he knew which end was the bow and which end was aft, port side and starboard, what sails were and a basic idea of how they worked and... that was about it. Oh, and that anchors were bloody heavy.)

"Well met, Brother," he moved his feet from where they'd been propped up on one of the empty chairs to allow the man a seat if he so desired. Of course, Ramsey's analysis of the sort of folks gathered in the small safehouse wasn't exactly incorrect, the statement getting a chuckle out of the well-dressed duelist.

Zelthier nodded a bit as he listened to the others, "As you say, Andrazi, he is a smart man. I doubt he would ask of us favors he did not feel we could deliver within the scope of our talents. Well," he shrugged, "At least, not intentionally."

"I have yet to see Brother Guaril request such things from one of the family," the swordsman stated truthfully with a slight shrug, "Considering the nature of our business, I would be surprised if he did. Acquiring, transporting, and delivering various items? Of course. Persuading enemies and allies to various ends? I have dealt in this a lot as well, though how you choose to influence your mark is up to your discretion."

Rolling his eyes, Zelthier simply shook his head at the sorceress, though his ever-present grin never faltered in the least. "Well, someone has to do the job, and you will learn," he chuckled darkly, "You will learn. When the family asks you to do something, you do it; and the more you prove yourself to be a valuable asset, the more favorable jobs you get."

"Well, a fight is always fair when I win, of course," the Varisian smiled, amber eyes glinting with amusement. Though he had a definite habit of challenging the strongest opponents on the field to one-on-one duels, he rarely ever had a complete disadvantage unless he was one against too many.

"Ahh, acquisitions," Zelthier shuffled the cards again with a chuckle at Andrazi, eyeing the newcomers with a grin, "Good to see we have skilled members of the family on such tasks."

"I'll have you know," the tiefling stated with mock indignation at the sorceress' accusation, "That I am no pirate, nor petty thug. I am a man of honor, and I always fight fair!" Of course, the wicked, fanged, grin said otherwise, but it was pretty well to be expected from the scoundrel more commonly known as The Dandy Devil.

When Karl approached, he flashed the larger man a devious smile, tipping his oh-so-fancy hat to him, "Well met, brother. I am Zelthier, jack of all trades, master of blades, and charmer of men and women alike across lands far and wide," the tiefling's tail coiled languidly behind him as he spoke, gesturing to an empty chair at the table.

Nodding in greeting to the new woman, the tiefling snickered, thoroughly amused by the antics of his 'family' as they played a few rounds. Considering they weren't playing for anything of value beyond amusement, Zelthier had made a bit of a personal game of seeing whether or not he could cheat without getting caught. More often than not he was successful, but he still managed to get called out on it several times and each time he conceded defeat to whomever had caught him, all the while with a broad smile and a laugh.

Even without counting the times he'd cheated, he'd proved himself to be a veritable card shark, though it seemed the lot of them were all rather proficient in the fine art of the cards.

Sitting back with a chuckle, the devilish Varisian congratulated Xan on a game well played, having been thoroughly and soundly beaten by the woman even with a couple of successful cheats. "Remind me not to bet anything of value against you," he grinned, lazily draping an arm over the back of his chair.

"Don't worry," Zelthier grinned, "Unless you have my cards up your sleeves, the only one who can easily cheat here is me," he looked his own cards over briefly before smiling back at the others, "And I do not cheat my friends."

(Rummy is super easy. I was figuring we could just gloss over the actual play, but if you want to actually play it out the rules are here.)

"Very well." Cutting the deck another couple times, the tiefling dealt out the cards to his companions, each player receiving a hand of seven cards before placing the next card from the deck face-up next to the face-down deck.

"I am sure you are all familiar with the rules for Towers, no? Well, this game is nothing like it," he chuckled, explaining the rules for the game before gesturing for the person to his left to go.

(It's basically Rummy, but with whatever name would be used on Golarion, using the suits of swords, cups, coins, and wands rather than an actual Harrow deck. If someone can point me at a different card game in Pathfinder, we could use those rules.)

"Are you going to play?" he smirked, doing a combination of some card flourishes, fancy false cuts, and actual shuffling before setting the deck on the table.

"Pick a game."

Glancing around at the others, he raised an inquisitive eyebrow, "Anyone else want in?"

(He's got a +20, I figured that was a pretty decent shot at it.)

Laughing at Reith's question, he gestured idly with one hand while pulling a deck of cards out of his pocket. "I should certainly hope not! I am, after all, rather attached to it."

"Well," he nodded to Xan whilst shuffling his deck of cards, "It is our success that is important, no? So long as our brothers and sisters can do the job, I am more than happy to help by drawing the attention of others."

The keen-eyed duelist smirked at Reith knowingly, though he wasn't about to foil the man's cover. "For the same reason you are so short, little brother," he sauntered past, ruffling the halfling's hair as he passed on his way to drop rather gracefully into an unoccupied chair, "It is simply how I am."

Chuckling at Xan's comment, he tipped his hat to the woman with a sly, fanged, grin, "Of course I am. If people are paying attention to me, they are not paying attention to you."

A finely dressed man sauntered in with an amused smirk, looking around at the others gathered before speaking with a distinctly Varisian accent, "So. Who decided to start the party without me, hmm?"

From head to toe, the man was dressed in a rich shade of crimson, his clothing at least as flashy and fancy as his wide-brimmed hat, which sported a large, white, feather plume. At his side, an extremely ornate rapier was sheathed, the guard fashioned to look like Devil's wings, a dark aura about the weapon seeming to shift and flicker when not being directly observed.

All in all, he looked every bit the part of some fancy Varisian duelist, save for the dark reddish tone to his skin, his shock-white hair, the Devil-like horns protruding from his brow and up through a pair of holes in the brim of his hat, and his long, languidly swaying tail.