"Upper crust? Tell me her name, William.""Quick, quick, don't be shy. We're friends here."
Will nods his thanks to the barmaid for the refill, a wistful little smile still on his face at SIlas's audacity. HE shakes his head slightly at the elf's question.
"Hm? Oh, it's no secret. Lady Ashinana Vestang, of Taldor. I think. The invitation is packed away." He says, puzzled by his friends sudden curiosity. Then a glance at the departing barmaid, her hips swinging far more than they were earlier, and he's suddenly not so puzzled.
"Upper crust? Tell me her name, William.""Quick, quick, don't be shy. We're friends here."
Will nods his thanks to the barmaid for the refill, a wistful little smile still on his face at SIlas's audacity. HE shakes his head slightly at the elf's question.
"Hm? Oh, it's no secret. Lady Ashinana Vestang, of Taldor. I think. The invitation is packed away." He says, puzzled by his friends sudden curiosity. Then a glance at the departing barmaid, her hips swinging far more than they were earlier, and he's suddenly not so puzzled.
"Lady Vestang. Sounds like a crochety old maid."
"So this party seems like an interesting opportunity. Tell me William, would you like to finally free yourself?"
Silar sips some wine.
For the Warden
William purses his lips, and waves his skinny arms up where Silas can see them.
;P
"Come on now Silas. I'm not nearly drunk enough for a metaphysical debate,... yet." Will tells his friend, taking a sip of his refilled tankard. "SO? Out with it. What are you up to THIS time? You've obviously got something cooking, better tell me before you explode!" He tries, and fails, to hide a grin.
Addy gives a quick laugh, and looks at the large man square in the eye, still smiling. “You know, you’re right! How very foolish of little ol’ me! It’s an absolute miracle we made it through alive. And I suppose you and your mage friend are JUST the bodyguards we need to complete our journey?” Her face becomes a little more serious-looking as she leans a little closer. “Or are you the folks we should be watching out for?”She leans back out, and the smile returns, perhaps a little more friendly, but also a bit more … predatory. “No offense taken. I don’t believe you are highwaymen, especially observing your friend. He hardly seems the type to take up life as a bandit. But, then again, appearances can be deceiving, can’t they, Mr …?
“Kane. Malatar Kane,” the warrior replies, giving a brief nod of his head. “No, not looking for a job. Already got one. And banditry’s not really my style.” He takes another sip of ale.
“Well, I’m sure you can look after yourself lady. But a fine lady travelling without armed escort attracts attention.” He shrugs. “Just odd, like I said. But Hells, for all I know you’ve got a whole platoon staying in the cheap flop-house down the road.”
He notices the halfling’s approach, and nods again to the lady. “Nice meeting you lady. Have a pleasant journey – you’ll have no trouble from me, that I pledge.”
William purses his lips, and waves his skinny arms up where Silas can see them.
;P"Come on now Silas. I'm not nearly drunk enough for a metaphysical debate,... yet." Will tells his friend, taking a sip of his refilled tankard. "SO? Out with it. What are you up to THIS time? You've obviously got something cooking, better tell me before you explode!" He tries, and fails, to hide a grin.
"It's not metaphysical debate I am asking for. In plain speech, I dare you to practice the lessons I've been trying to teach you at the party. I know you are ready to do so."
"Women will be like putty in your hands."
Will looks at his friend, understanding dawning in his eyes.
"Your going to the party too, aren't you?" He says aloud, more of a statement than a question.
"Sure, why not? It not like I can possibly do worse than I did before! And people who DON'T know me might actually give me a chance!" He adds, obviously not entirely convinced of the last statement himself.
"But, AFTER I get a chance to look at these 'artifacts'! I do have a job to do you know. And NOT in the middle of the dance floor! I don't mind making an a$$ of myself, but let's minimize the audience, ok?" He says with a resigned sigh. After another sip, his eyes narrow as another thought comes to him.
"So, did you have a particular test subject in mind? Or am I just supposed to sweep away the first servant girl I meet?" He asks innocently, again trying to hide a grin.
;)
"Well, I thank you for your ... concern, Mr. Kane. But I assure you, my servant and I are in no danger; at least, no more than yourself. And please, the next time you feel the need to stare, at least do it after I have had the opportunity to freshen up."
Addy quickly turns to Gorzal, who had walked up behind her. "Yes, come with me!" she demands, and strides back to her table. Once there, she quietly mentions to him, "I don't think there's any reason to worry, but we should watch him and his mage-friend closely. I noticed him doing an awful lot of staring in my general direction. Says he thought a noblewoman traveling in this part of the country with only a halfling servant was a bit foolish ... or odd. Did my best to play the haughty, arrogant, 'And why are you staring at me?' noble. My thoughts are that if he was truly tailing or watching us, he would have just told me something like 'I just couldn't take my eyes off a beauty like you,' or some claptrap like that. Still, you know me. Doesn't hurt to take a few extra precautions. And if it keeps up, there's plenty of open space in this part of Taldor to hide corpses."
"Well, I thank you for your ... concern, Mr. Kane. But I assure you, my servant and I are in no danger; at least, no more than yourself. And please, the next time you feel the need to stare, at least do it after I have had the opportunity to freshen up."
Addy quickly turns to Gorzal, who had walked up behind her. "Yes, come with me!" she demands, and strides back to her table. Once there, she quietly mentions to him, "I don't think there's any reason to worry, but we should watch him and his mage-friend closely. I noticed him doing an awful lot of staring in my general direction. Says he thought a noblewoman traveling in this part of the country with only a halfling servant was a bit foolish ... or odd. Did my best to play the haughty, arrogant, 'And why are you staring at me?' noble. My thoughts are that if he was truly tailing or watching us, he would have just told me something like 'I just couldn't take my eyes off a beauty like you,' or some claptrap like that. Still, you know me. Doesn't hurt to take a few extra precautions. And if it keeps up, there's plenty of open space in this part of Taldor to hide corpses."
Gorzal Thrym replies while staring at the tabletop in properly defferential fashion.
"You're probably right. Man's a complete mutt by the look; could be working for anyone. Might even be exactly what he seems. One way or another: we got a corner room, only a short jump to the next roof if we got to beat feet. If our cover's blown we'll know tonight."Under the table you can see him fiddling with the hilt of his dirk. [ooc]Is that what the kids are calling it these days?[\ooc]
"Any burying, you're dragging the corpse. Why can't we ever go someplace where you have to be MY servant?"
Mal finishes off his ale with a swig, cursing himself for a fool. Don’t get involved Mal, he thinks to himself belatedly. Either the woman was what she seemed – a noble who is naïve or confident enough to travel without an armed escort this close to the Qadiran border (or perhaps the rumours he’d heard of bandits and slavers raiding across the border were over-blown) – which could mean political type problems if she felt like she’d been insulted. If on the other hand she was not quite what she seemed, as he halfway expected, then his noticing of the flaw in her disguise could bring him much more serious trouble.
The warrior sighed. And this all because he’d looked twice at a pretty lady. Women. Can’t live with ‘em, can’t kill ‘em … unless they’re some Numerian barbarian b*tch charging at you with a greataxe…
Perhaps Malatar is a wee bit bitter since his wife left him…
Hmmph. Back to work.
Malatar gets up from the bar and heads over to the table where Will now sits with the elf. Nodding to both men, he sits, oblivious to (or ignoring) the fact that the pair seem to be involved in a private conversation.
“So,” he says at the next lull in conversation, “how do you two know each other? Funny that you’d run into an old friend this far from home … in a country you’ve never been to before Will …”
He smiles as if discussing the weather.
Gorzal Thrym replies while staring at the tabletop in properly defferential fashion.
"You're probably right. Man's a complete mutt by the look; could be working for anyone. Might even be exactly what he seems. One way or another: we got a corner room, only a short jump to the next roof if we got to beat feet. If our cover's blown we'll know tonight."
Under the table you can see him fiddling with the hilt of his dirk. [ooc]Is that what the kids are calling it these days?[\ooc]
"Any burying, you're dragging the corpse. Why can't we ever go someplace where you have to be MY servant?"
Addy smirks. "Likely because I'm not sure there exists a place where THAT wouldn't cause some stares."
Glancing back at Malatar, Addy notices him get up and join the scholarly fellow and the elf. Lowering her voice, she says, "Interesting, though. The studious-looking fellow seems to know, and be friendly with that elf, the one with the Calistrian symbol on his breastplate. Quite the odd pairing ... well, anyway, let's get you something to eat and drink. You're no good to me as a servant weak and malnourished."
Flashing an evil grin, Addy motions to the serving girl. "Bring my servant some bread and cheese, and perhaps a little cold mutton if you have it. Oh, and a mug of whatever your house brew is." She then takes a long sip of her wine, and nibbles a bit on the hot dinner she was brought while waiting for Gorzal.
Hmmph. Back to work.
Malatar gets up from the bar and heads over to the table where Will now sits with the elf. Nodding to both men, he sits, oblivious to (or ignoring) the fact that the pair seem to be involved in a private conversation.
“So,” he says at the next lull in conversation, “how do you two know each other? Funny that you’d run into an old friend this far from home … in a country you’ve never been to before Will …”
He smiles as if discussing the weather.
WIlliam nods amiably at Malatar's words, clearly not paying them complete attention.
"I told you, he's a good lecturer. We met after one of his seminar's at the university. HE has some VERY interesting theories about the relationships between men and women. And techniques to improve them. And they seem sound, but for the life of me, I canNOT ever get them to work when I try them myself!" Will answers absent-mindedly. He blinks, and then looks at MAl as if just noticing that he was sitting there. He smiles.
"MAybe YOU should give his techniques a try! Unless you weren't really trying to make time with miss fancy-pants over there?"
Gorzal Thrym replies while staring at the tabletop in properly defferential fashion.
"You're probably right. Man's a complete mutt by the look; could be working for anyone. Might even be exactly what he seems. One way or another: we got a corner room, only a short jump to the next roof if we got to beat feet. If our cover's blown we'll know tonight."
Under the table you can see him fiddling with the hilt of his dirk. [ooc]Is that what the kids are calling it these days?[\ooc]
"Any burying, you're dragging the corpse. Why can't we ever go someplace where you have to be MY servant?"Addy smirks. "Likely because I'm not sure there exists a place where THAT wouldn't cause some stares."
Glancing back at Malatar, Addy notices him get up and join the scholarly fellow and the elf. Lowering her voice, she says, "Interesting, though. The studious-looking fellow seems to know, and be friendly with that elf, the one with the Calistrian symbol on his breastplate. Quite the odd pairing ... well, anyway, let's get you something to eat and drink. You're no good to me as a servant weak and malnourished."
Flashing an evil grin, Addy motions to the serving girl. "Bring my servant some bread and cheese, and perhaps a little cold mutton if you have it. Oh, and a mug of whatever your house brew is." She then takes a long sip of her wine, and nibbles a bit on the hot dinner she was brought while waiting for Gorzal.
Gorzal's face remains neural and submissive.
"Cold mutton? With this weather? Guess it's a small price if I'll be sleeping in that big bed upstairs while you take the floor.", he whispers.He slides a roundabout glance to Will, Silas and Mal's table.
"Want I should 'request the pleasure of their company' after your long journey? Get 'em on even ground, get the measure of 'em?"
"MAybe YOU should give his techniques a try! Unless you weren't really trying to make time with miss fancy-pants over there?"
Mal just grunts.
Gorzal's face remains neural and submissive.
"Cold mutton? With this weather? Guess it's a small price if I'll be sleeping in that big bed upstairs while you take the floor.", he whispers.He slides a roundabout glance to Will, Silas and Mal's table.
"Want I should 'request the pleasure of their company' after your long journey? Get 'em on even ground, get the measure of 'em?"
"I'll make it up to you when we get back to Oppara. Full roast venison dinner at your favorite inn, my treat."
Thinking about his second suggestion, Addy replies, "No. Not a bad idea, but honestly, I'm just too tired to deal with them right now. And besides, that may in turn let them get the 'measure' of us, too. Just keep your eyes on 'em."
After an evening of talking, drinking and eating the four of you retire: "Lady Vivianna" to her private suite, Silas to a soft bed with some warm company, Mal and Will to bunks of their own in a large common room. After breakfast, each of you departs for Lady Vestang's hamlet 10 miles to the south along the coast.
The weather is humid after the storms yesterday and even in Lady Morrow's carriage, Silas is sweating. The countryside remains a depressing scrubland, the monotony broken only by broken-down farmhouses and derelict watch towers. It's shortly after noon when you arrive at the hamlet. The place is busy as a beehive and there's a train of wagons waiting to enter the gates. Tents outnumber houses in the tiny settlement and merchants, servants and teamsters run left and right between them. On a small hill above the town is an old manor house, looking recently restored in the traditional Taldane fashion full of lavish columns and a fenced-in courtyard of the greenest trees and vegetation you've seen in weeks. A temporary pen for camels and horses has been set up in front of the palatial house.
It's only a short wait to get into the hamlet: two weary-looking guardsmen waive you in after only the most perfunctory searches. Looking around, it's difficult to spot any more of them. There's only one inn to serve the town, The Dancing Tabi, its name declared on a wooden sign with a drawing of a cat capering on its hind legs. Near the inn is a large tent with a costumed tailor's dummy outside.
Silas Tyr
Lady Morrow (to her chagrin) will be staying in a tent set up by her servant rather than in the manor house. Shortly after her accommodations are set up, she sets out to declare her arrival at the costume tent.
Adelaine Harthos
Gorzal Thrym drives the cart steadily through the throng, finally finding a spot close to the hamlet's wall and near the gate. He begins setting up your tent with a practiced grace, his small stature rarely causing inconvenience.
"My lady, I believe you will have to announce your arrival somewhere in town. Perhaps a busker or one of those guardsmen may be of some assistance?"
Mal and Will
Your feet are tired from the long walk south, but you've finally made it. Quent's letter of invitation should get you in with little trouble, though the party is tomorrow night. Until then, there remains time to find accommodations and a costume for Mal.
Actions (from anyone, including Zareby and Marten)?
"There, there, my dear, do not allow this to distract you from your goal. Instead, use it to clarify and focus your intent to see these wrongs righted."
"Now, smile as we give the world our attention."
"There, there, my dear, do not allow this to distract you from your goal. Instead, use it to clarify and focus your intent to see these wrongs righted."
"Now, smile as we give the world our attention."
The Lady Morrow collects herself, allowing her vexed expression to give way to a coy, pleasant mask.
"As ever, Master Tyr, your words cleave to the heart. If the goddess has a more adept servant, I have yet to make his acquaintance. Shall you escort me to the greeters' tent?"
You hold out your arm and she slides into step with you, your hips making an agreeable friction as you pace through the camp/hamlet. Cookfires fill the air with their alluring scent as servants, porters and couriers run back and forth.
The entire place resembles a hive of bees. Or, more appropriately, wasps.
Holding yourself straight and pulling aside the tent flap for your employer, the two of you cut a handsome couple as you enter the tailor's tent. Racks of fabric and finished costumes clutter the interior, masks piled high on tables and pinned to wooden dividers. Many of them bear a tag on them, indicating to whom they have been reserved.
A meek-looking man holds the chitinous mask of some sort insect, two feathered antennae jutting from the mandible. He smiles and nods to the attending tailor, pleased by the selection. Meanwhile, a richly dressed and imperious fifteen year old girl positively sneers with dissatisfaction at the array of costume jewelry set before her, her escort standing stiffly behind her. She spares the man with the insect mask a disgusted glance as an attendant brings her a new tray of tiaras.
Before you sits a man at a small wooden desk, a wide ledger set before him. He smiles pleasantly at you and Lady Morrow as he dips his quill into an inkwell.
"Ah, greetings Lady Morrow! You look as radiant as ever! And a hearty welcome to your escort; it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my Lord: I am humble Umbraccio, Lady Vestang's reeve...."
Lady Morrow cuts in.
"Thank you, Master Umbraccio. This is Master Silas Tyr, my escort for the masquerade. I won't trouble you with his full title, as I see you only have so much room on your page. We have arrived and found our accomodations."
Umbraccio nods swiftly.
"Of course, my lady, my lord. If there is aught you require of the tailors and costumers, they are at your disposal. Tomorrow evening at sunset will mark the beginning of the masquerade. I say this only as a formality, but please understand that real weapons will not be permitted beyond the manor's doors: all duels will be non-lethal, should such an exhibition be required and the hostess will provide blunted foils."
Lady Morrow nods.
"I don't believe I will require anything further. Master Tyr, would you like to peruse the costumer's offerings or shall we adjourn?"
Will Sighs as he drops his pack, and leans his back against one of the seeming few actually solid buildings in town. He winces as he rubs his feet through his boots.
"Bloody Journals never mention anything about bloody blisters. I'LL be sure that such important footnotes are not left out of MY journals, I tell you that!" He grumbles. Then gives a small smile and chortles at his unintended pun.
"Heh. Footnotes. I'll have to remember that one. Ah who am I kidding? By the time a Pathfinder is famous enough to have anyone actually READ his journal, he's done so much traveling that his feet are probably tougher than his boots!"
He purses his lips as he catches a glimpse of Silas through the crowd, exiting the carriage.
"How DOES he do it?!?" He sighs once more, then returns his attention to Mal. If the burly warrior is as tired as Will, he either doesn't let it bother him, or he's very good at hiding his discomfort.
"Well, do we pitch a tent and claim our 3 feet of dirt like the rest? Or do you want to try and hope that the inn has a room left? I need to make a few notes in my journal, about the trip. Not that we saw anything spectacular, but I want to make good notes about the countryside, get into good habits early. Oh! And we still need to find you a costume!" Will rambles, ticking off items on his fingers.
Adelaine Harthos
Gorzal Thrym drives the cart steadily through the throng, finally finding a spot close to the hamlet's wall and near the gate. He begins setting up your tent with a practiced grace, his small stature rarely causing inconvenience.
"My lady, I believe you will have to announce your arrival somewhere in town. Perhaps a busker or one of those guardsmen may be of some assistance?"
Addy nods. "Yes, thank you Gorzal," she replies, already getting into her guise of Lady Albercroft. "I will return shortly."
Striding over to one of the guardsmen, Addy asks, with a proper degree of haughtiness, "You! Man! Direct me to where the nobility is to announce their arrival!"
Adelaine Harthos
Gorzal Thrym drives the cart steadily through the throng, finally finding a spot close to the hamlet's wall and near the gate. He begins setting up your tent with a practiced grace, his small stature rarely causing inconvenience.
"My lady, I believe you will have to announce your arrival somewhere in town. Perhaps a busker or one of those guardsmen may be of some assistance?"Addy nods. "Yes, thank you Gorzal," she replies, already getting into her guise of Lady Albercroft. "I will return shortly."
Striding over to one of the guardsmen, Addy asks, with a proper degree of haughtiness, "You! Man! Direct me to where the nobility is to announce their arrival!"
It takes a few minutes to find a guard: there must be only a handful for the entire town. He snaps to attention at your voice and points toward the center of the hamlet.
"My Lady, you will find the costume tent beside the inn. It is there that you may declare yourself."
Finding her way over to the costume tent, Addy again strides in as confidently as possible, walking straight to the man sitting behind the desk inside.
Without waiting for him to speak, she announces, somewhat loudly, "I am Lady Vivianna Albercroft, just arrived from Oppara for the Lady Vestang's masquerade."
Finding her way over to the costume tent, Addy again strides in as confidently as possible, walking straight to the man sitting behind the desk inside.
Without waiting for him to speak, she announces, somewhat loudly, "I am Lady Vivianna Albercroft, just arrived from Oppara for the Lady Vestang's masquerade."
You step in past the elf you saw the other evening in the tavern and a petite brunette noblewoman (whose smile seems awfully devious). The man at the table leafs through a ledger and finds your cover name. There is already one slash mark next to it; he places another and looks up.
"Ah, welcome, fair Lady to my mistress' country estate.", he falters for a moment,"Forgive me but your man, Ferdinand I believe his name was, told me you were staying at the inn. Why, I saw him there just yesterday. Were your accommodations not to your liking? Shall I have a word with the innkeeper? We can't countenance even the slightest inconvenience to our guests."
Addy is startled a bit by this news, but tries to quickly recover. "Ferdinand ... no, no. Simply a miscommunication. You see, I was under the impression he wasn't attending, and ... apparently his affairs were cleared up, and his step-mother, my aunt, didn't send notice. I was supposed to arrive several days ago, but got delayed. He must have just assumed I was at the inn."
Addy forces herself to smile, and adds, "Well, this is wonderful news! I haven't seen my step-cousin in years! You say he's at the inn? What was he wearing when last you saw him? So that I may find him quickly, of course ..."
Meanwhile, "Ferdinand" is sitting in the common room of the inn playing a game of cards, unaware.
Addy is startled a bit by this news, but tries to quickly recover. "Ferdinand ... no, no. Simply a miscommunication. You see, I was under the impression he wasn't attending, and ... apparently his affairs were cleared up, and his step-mother, my aunt, didn't send notice. I was supposed to arrive several days ago, but got delayed. He must have just assumed I was at the inn."
Addy forces herself to smile, and adds, "Well, this is wonderful news! I haven't seen my step-cousin in years! You say he's at the inn? What was he wearing when last you saw him? So that I may find him quickly, of course ..."
The man turns a bit red at your smile, and responds with one of his own.
"Ah! How splendid, to be the bearer of good news! Your step-cousin was wearing an unseasonable red scarf and a thick pair of leather gloves. Oh! And if you should need any costume supplies for the masquerade, we're at your disposal."One of the tailors looks up from sewing a fabric leaf onto a costume and says, around the pins in her mouth:
"Hey, 'braccio! Mind you don't drool on the books, you cross-eyed ox!"
The rest of the tailors and costumers laugh, the clerk grumbling under his breath.
The man turns a bit red at your smile, and responds with one of his own.
"Ah! How splendid, to be the bearer of good news! Your step-cousin was wearing an unseasonable red scarf and a thick pair of leather gloves. Oh! And if you should need any costume supplies for the masquerade, we're at your disposal."One of the tailors looks up from sewing a fabric leaf onto a costume and says, around the pins in her mouth:
"Hey, 'braccio! Mind you don't drool on the books, you cross-eyed ox!"
The rest of the tailors and costumers laugh, the clerk grumbling under his breath.
"My thanks! I think we have enough costuming, but should we need anything, I'll be sure and come back." With a final smile, Adelaine turns and leaves quickly out of the tent.
She walks at a brisk pace, directly back to her tent. Seeing Gorzal, she demands, "Gorzal, now! In the tent!" Grabbing his arm and practically dragging him in, it's pretty obvious Addy is upset.
Once in, she closes the flap, lowers her voice, and says, "We have a problem. It would seem that 'my man' Ferdinand, has already arrived and checked in. Also seems he's staying in the inn, and told the clerk that I was as well. I think I was able to talk my way through it, but this is EXACTLY why we needed more time!
"The way I see it, we need to find this Ferdinand and find out just how well he knows Lady Albercroft. If he doesn't really know her, which I tend to doubt, we may be able to ride this out. But if he knows her, which seems pretty likely, well ... at least there's an ocean here and we won't have to dig.
"Now, how do we approach this? I see two options: we go to the inn in character, and see what happens. Or disguise ourselves. You find out what room this guy is in and break in. I'll try and ... butter him up, get him up there, and we can take care of things. What do you think?"
Marten
It's been a grueling few days of practice. The role itself isn't difficult; you could practically play Aroden in your sleep, especially since most of your lines are improvised. The grueling part is dealing with your employer.
Lady Vestang is a slim beauty in her early twenties, her hair ever bound up in complex hairstyles. She's as impetuous as a spoiled ten year old, demanding that your readings, gestures, your very breathing be just so. Her sometime companion Duke Sallin is no better: a man far older than her, a swaggering braggart with an elaborate military uniform always flanked by two frowning guardsmen. He only seems pleased when you are shouting your lines in the stiffest possible tone. And his dubious military stories, gods, if he were a good storyteller you might at least be entertained but as it is he recites his supposed accomplishments like a laundry list. This afternoon's practice leaves you exhausted and a bit hoarse, the only real encouragement coming from Itaden, Lady Vestang's bodyguard. As his mistress strolled away he quietly put a gauntleted hand on your shoulder and said he was certain that you would do well.
"I'm no theater type, sir, but I think you've got it right on the head.", he said, his voice ringing from his full helm,"I'm sure my mistress will be pleased if you ignore all of her... dictation."
With that, you're a free man until tomorrow night.
Once in, she closes the flap, lowers her voice, and says, "We have a problem. It would seem that 'my man' Ferdinand, has already arrived and checked in. Also seems he's staying in the inn, and told the clerk that I was as well. I think I was able to talk my way through it, but this is EXACTLY why we needed more time!"The way I see it, we need to find this Ferdinand and find out just how well he knows Lady Albercroft. If he doesn't really know her, which I tend to doubt, we may be able to ride this out. But if he knows her, which seems pretty likely, well ... at least there's an ocean here and we won't have to dig.
"Now, how do we approach this? I see two options: we go to the inn in character, and see what happens. Or disguise ourselves. You find out what room this guy is in and break in. I'll try and ... butter him up, get him up there, and we can take care of things. What do you think?"
Gorzal's cold eyes darken a bit, his brows knitting.
"I assumed I would be the one going in with you to the party... if this fop is here fouling things, we'd better get his measure. You go in, start chatting him up; shouldn't know who you are one way or the other. I'll stay nearby: you get him alone and I'll follow you. Reckon we can corner him and get some information to make our act all the more convincing."
He scratches his chin.
"Don't remember no Ferdinand in her acquaintance, though... Well, we both know they didn't do near enough research before sending us out."
“Don’t know what our chances are in getting a room,” Mal replies to Will, shrugging. He’s seemed a bit distracted on the journey to the hamlet, always looking about and over his shoulder, but whatever danger he may have expected didn’t materialise.
“I don’t mind roughing it. Let’s get this costume crap out of the way first though,” he says, gesturing towards what is apparently the costume tent.
“Don’t know what our chances are in getting a room,” Mal replies to Will, shrugging. He’s seemed a bit distracted on the journey to the hamlet, always looking about and over his shoulder, but whatever danger he may have expected didn’t materialise.
“I don’t mind roughing it. Let’s get this costume crap out of the way first though,” he says, gesturing towards what is apparently the costume tent.
"Right. Good idea. Glad I thought of that." Will replies seriously, just as distracted, (though probably not for nearly as good a reason!)
He leads the way through the improvised village, nimbly dodging pedestrians and carts almost casually. He is obviously distracted, muttering to himself, and you wonder if he would be nearly as acrobatic if he was paying attention to what was going on around him.
They finally approach the tent, and Will starts to enter, and is nearly flattened by the exit of a woman in an obvious hurry for his troubles. He enters after giving it another cursory glance, (Mainly to make sure that he doesn't need to dodge another exiter!), ducking under the pinned back flap and gazing at the myriad costumes and workers swarming the various fabrics like bees.
Will coughs slightly, a gentle clearing of his throat.
"Um,... hello?" He says softly, barely loud enough to be heard.
Gorzal's cold eyes darken a bit, his brows knitting.
"I assumed I would be the one going in with you to the party... if this fop is here fouling things, we'd better get his measure. You go in, start chatting him up; shouldn't know who you are one way or the other. I'll stay nearby: you get him alone and I'll follow you. Reckon we can corner him and get some information to make our act all the more convincing."
He scratches his chin.
"Don't remember no Ferdinand in her acquaintance, though... Well, we both know they didn't do near enough research before sending us out."
"Alright. Sounds like a plan." Addy takes a bit to freshen up, then pulls out an outfit more suited to a pleasant evening than travelling. Giving Gorzal a quick look, she says, "You can wait outside for a moment," then changes. Once he comes back in, she says, "I'm going to leave the heavy weapons here, I think. Of course, a lady should always be prepared."
She takes one of her daggers and hides it somewhere ... inconspicuous. . "Gorzal, you have something a little less lethal you can bring? A sap or something?"
Once they're both ready, she'll set out for the inn (I'm assuming Gorzal will likely go separately).
“Don’t know what our chances are in getting a room,” Mal replies to Will, shrugging. He’s seemed a bit distracted on the journey to the hamlet, always looking about and over his shoulder, but whatever danger he may have expected didn’t materialise.
“I don’t mind roughing it. Let’s get this costume crap out of the way first though,” he says, gesturing towards what is apparently the costume tent.
"Right. Good idea. Glad I thought of that." Will replies seriously, just as distracted, (though probably not for nearly as good a reason!)
He leads the way through the improvised village, nimbly dodging pedestrians and carts almost casually. He is obviously distracted, muttering to himself, and you wonder if he would be nearly as acrobatic if he was paying attention to what was going on around him.
They finally approach the tent, and Will starts to enter, and is nearly flattened by the exit of a woman in an obvious hurry for his troubles. He enters after giving it another cursory glance, (Mainly to make sure that he doesn't need to dodge another exiter!), ducking under the pinned back flap and gazing at the myriad costumes and workers swarming the various fabrics like bees.
Will coughs slightly, a gentle clearing of his throat.
"Um,... hello?" He says softly, barely loud enough to be heard.
The sweating clerk looks up from his ledger. There's a bit of color in his cheeks and you can see that many of the tailors and seamstresses are grinning for some reason. The walls are decked with masks, accessories and different costumes of all persuasions.
"Ah, hello gentlemen! Please, come in. I'm Umbraccio, Lady Vestang's reeve. Are you in need of costumes?"
Gorzal's cold eyes darken a bit, his brows knitting.
"I assumed I would be the one going in with you to the party... if this fop is here fouling things, we'd better get his measure. You go in, start chatting him up; shouldn't know who you are one way or the other. I'll stay nearby: you get him alone and I'll follow you. Reckon we can corner him and get some information to make our act all the more convincing."
He scratches his chin.
"Don't remember no Ferdinand in her acquaintance, though... Well, we both know they didn't do near enough research before sending us out.""Alright. Sounds like a plan." Addy takes a bit to freshen up, then pulls out an outfit more suited to a pleasant evening than travelling. Giving Gorzal a quick look, she says, "You can wait outside for a moment," then changes. Once he comes back in, she says, "I'm going to leave the heavy weapons here, I think. Of course, a lady should always be prepared."
She takes one of her daggers and hides it somewhere ... inconspicuous. . "Gorzal, you have something a little less lethal you can bring? A sap or something?"
Once they're both ready, she'll set out for the inn (I'm assuming Gorzal will likely go separately).
Gorzal nods, strapping a blackjack to his calf before plastering a servile expression on his face and heading in the opposite direction.
The Dancing Tabi's common room is hotter than outside, likely because it's full of visitors out for their midday lunch. It's a motley crowd: merchants rubbing elbows with nobles and their retinues, next to stevedores and animal trainers. You even spot a dwarf mingling with a few of the merchants, a boggard mask sitting before him on the table. He picks it up and looks it over here and there. Two waitresses struggle to keep up with orders while the barkeep tends the hearth and the taps.
You can see the man named Ferdinand in the back: tall, lanky with a head of thick dark hair and sure enough those unseasonable gloves and scarf. He's seated with several other men: Unbearded, by their looks, likely traders or guards out of uniform.
"Ah, hello gentlemen! Please, come in. I'm Umbraccio, Lady Vestang's reeve. Are you in need of costumes?"
Will grins in response, but somehow it looks more like a smirk.
"I'm William, this is Malatar. We're here representing Venture-Captain Quent." HE offers in his slightly gravelly voice, fumbling in his robe for the invitation.
"And yes, we'll need costumes. Or at least he will. Something war-like and majestic I would think. I think I'm alright. Or, Oooo, THAT looks interesting." Will finishes, his attention attracted by a particular headdress.
Mal shrugs, nods.
Gorzal nods, strapping a blackjack to his calf before plastering a servile expression on his face and heading in the opposite direction.
The Dancing Tabi's common room is hotter than outside, likely because it's full of visitors out for their midday lunch. It's a motley crowd: merchants rubbing elbows with nobles and their retinues, next to stevedores and animal trainers. You even spot a dwarf mingling with a few of the merchants, a boggard mask sitting before him on the table. He picks it up and looks it over here and there. Two waitresses struggle to keep up with orders while the barkeep tends the hearth and the taps.
You can see the man named Ferdinand in the back: tall, lanky with a head of thick dark hair and sure enough those unseasonable gloves and scarf. He's seated with several other men: Unbearded, by their looks, likely traders or guards out of uniform.
Interesting. If he really was Lady Albercroft's man, would he be associating with those men? It's possible, I guess. OK, now how do I get him separated from them?
An idea striking her, Addy puts on her meekest, most timid expression, and approaches the table. Addressing 'Ferdinand', she says, "Excuse me, are you Master Ferdinand, Lady Albercroft's representative? I am Myrin, one of Lady Vestang's representatives. As she has not yet had the pleasure to meet the Lady Albercroft, she requests the presence of both the Lady and yourself for a light lunch this afternoon. She also apologizes for the short notice. I will happily accompany you, and will be happy to wait if you and the Lady need some time to freshen up."
"Ah, hello gentlemen! Please, come in. I'm Umbraccio, Lady Vestang's reeve. Are you in need of costumes?"Will grins in response, but somehow it looks more like a smirk.
"I'm William, this is Malatar. We're here representing Venture-Captain Quent." HE offers in his slightly gravelly voice, fumbling in his robe for the invitation.
"And yes, we'll need costumes. Or at least he will. Something war-like and majestic I would think. I think I'm alright. Or, Oooo, THAT looks interesting." Will finishes, his attention attracted by a particular headdress.
Umbraccio looks over the invitation and accompanying letter from Quent. He nods and places them aside, marking your names in the guest book.
"Very good, gentlemen. I am certain her Ladyship will be pleased to make your acquaintance: I understand that she's been most excited to meet members of the illustrious Pathfinder Lodge. So good of you both to travel so far from Absalom for our masquerade!"
He points to the racks of costumes, masks and fake jewelry.
"Feel free to examine our costumes; anything without a tag is open and our tailors can make sure you cut a dashing figure when you make your entrance. Understand, though, that we cannot allow real armor and weapons at the event: we wouldn't want any... unpleasantness to spoil the event. Should a duel be required, Lady Vestang will provide blunted foils."
"Now, for a martial man: may I suggest a knight or a barbarian? Perhaps a tiger, a wolf, a boar? There are quite a few possibilities and our tailors will be delighted to help."
Looking over the tired, focused seamstresses and tailors, you can imagine they're anything but.
Gorzal nods, strapping a blackjack to his calf before plastering a servile expression on his face and heading in the opposite direction.
The Dancing Tabi's common room is hotter than outside, likely because it's full of visitors out for their midday lunch. It's a motley crowd: merchants rubbing elbows with nobles and their retinues, next to stevedores and animal trainers. You even spot a dwarf mingling with a few of the merchants, a boggard mask sitting before him on the table. He picks it up and looks it over here and there. Two waitresses struggle to keep up with orders while the barkeep tends the hearth and the taps.
You can see the man named Ferdinand in the back: tall, lanky with a head of thick dark hair and sure enough those unseasonable gloves and scarf. He's seated with several other men: Unbearded, by their looks, likely traders or guards out of uniform.
Interesting. If he really was Lady Albercroft's man, would he be associating with those men? It's possible, I guess. OK, now how do I get him separated from them?
An idea striking her, Addy puts on her meekest, most timid expression, and approaches the table. Addressing 'Ferdinand', she says, "Excuse me, are you Master Ferdinand, Lady Albercroft's representative? I am Myrin, one of Lady Vestang's representatives. As she has not yet had the pleasure to meet the Lady Albercroft, she requests the presence of both the Lady and yourself for a light lunch this afternoon. She also apologizes for the short notice. I will happily accompany you, and will be happy to wait if you and the Lady need some time to freshen up."
Interesting. If he really was Lady Albercroft's man, would he be associating with those men? It's possible, I guess. OK, now how do I get him separated from them?
An idea striking her, Addy puts on her meekest, most timid expression, and approaches the table. Addressing 'Ferdinand', she says, "Excuse me, are you Master Ferdinand, Lady Albercroft's representative? I am Myrin, one of Lady Vestang's representatives. As she has not yet had the pleasure to meet the Lady Albercroft, she requests the presence of both the Lady and yourself for a light lunch this afternoon. She also apologizes for the short notice. I will happily accompany you, and will be happy to wait if you and the Lady need some time to freshen up."
"Ferdinand" looks surprised for a second before turning around and smiling. "Ah, yes, it would be a pleasure to meet with Lady Vestang. Unfortunately, I seem to have lost track of Miss Ablecroft as of late. If you wish I could simply attend the lunch in her stead?" He turns back to the table for a moment. "Excuse me gentlemen, but I must take my leave now. After all, it is improper to keep a lady waiting."
"Yes, we're looking forward to meeting the lady as well, and seeing this collection she's acquired. Oooo,... This might work,... Yes, that's nice,... Not on a dare,... " Will says to no one, happily talking to himself as he steps between the busy tailors and plucks untagged items from various racks.
He returns to the front of the tent with a collection of items that obviously were not, originally, meant to go together. He deposits them in a pile.
"This should work splendidly!" He declares with a smile. Seeing the man's obvious disbelief at making the pile of odds and ends into a costume, Will smiles and shakes his head.
"I was going to borrow that eagle mask over there, but it's tagged, and I'm not sure I could wear it anyway,.. tight spaces you know. But THIS", He flourishes a feathered, hooded cape, "will work fine for a hooded mask, split it up the back to make the wings, and I'll wear it over this lionskin robe, costume, thingee." He declares. "The rest are just to add for decoration. What could be simpler, right?!" He says with a grin. Seeing the incredulous look on the greeters' face, and the varying looks from the astonished, beleaguered tailors, Will tones his smile down a few levels.
"Well, It seems simple to ME. But I'll confess I don't know which end of a needle to thread,..." He mutters apologetically.
Bluff
Sense motive (although she pretty much knows he's not here with the real one, seeing as Addy has the invite)
Zareby
There's something strange about this invitation and how this woman delivered it. Why would Lady Vestang wait this long to meet you?
"Yes, we're looking forward to meeting the lady as well, and seeing this collection she's acquired. Oooo,... This might work,... Yes, that's nice,... Not on a dare,... " Will says to no one, happily talking to himself as he steps between the busy tailors and plucks untagged items from various racks.
He returns to the front of the tent with a collection of items that obviously were not, originally, meant to go together. He deposits them in a pile.
"This should work splendidly!" He declares with a smile. Seeing the man's obvious disbelief at making the pile of odds and ends into a costume, Will smiles and shakes his head.
"I was going to borrow that eagle mask over there, but it's tagged, and I'm not sure I could wear it anyway,.. tight spaces you know. But THIS", He flourishes a feathered, hooded cape, "will work fine for a hooded mask, split it up the back to make the wings, and I'll wear it over this lionskin robe, costume, thingee." He declares. "The rest are just to add for decoration. What could be simpler, right?!" He says with a grin. Seeing the incredulous look on the greeters' face, and the varying looks from the astonished, beleaguered tailors, Will tones his smile down a few levels.
"Well, It seems simple to ME. But I'll confess I don't know which end of a needle to thread,..." He mutters apologetically.
One of the seamstresses gingerly takes the pile of mismatched costume pieces.
"Of course, sir, I'm sure you'll make a singular entry. If you would step over here, I'll take your measurements."Standing on a stool, you are measured with a tape. You don the various costume pieces and your seamstress marks it up with a stub of chalk, noting where this billows and where this clings too tightly. The quickest alterations she does while you stand there, shortening a sleeve here, letting out the length to accommodate your height.
"Well, sir, you should be able to pick your costume up tomorrow afternoon before the party. That way we can do a final measure and any quick adjustments."
'Ablecroft'. OK, I'm thinking this guy isn't who he says he is, and probably doesn't know her. Good information to have.
"A pity. Lady Vestang was so looking forward to meeting the Lady Ablecroft. Would you like to freshen up, first before you go, milord?"
'Ablecroft'. OK, I'm thinking this guy isn't who he says he is, and probably doesn't know her. Good information to have.
"A pity. Lady Vestang was so looking forward to meeting the Lady Ablecroft. Would you like to freshen up, first before you go, milord?"
"No need to wait, my dear. I'm as fresh as I ever shall be. Lead on."
"Well, sir, you should be able to pick your costume up tomorrow afternoon before the party. That way we can do a final...
Will submits to the fitting cheerfully, though he's hardly helpful as his inquisitive nature keeps telling to try and watch and see exactly what the seamstress is doing. But a few polite requests from teh seamstress, followed by a determined cough from Mal, cause Will to cease his fidgeting. At least long enough for the wizard to try and apply one of Silas's lessons, and give the young girl what is supposed to be a rakish grin,...
But seems to come out more like he ate something that didn't agree with him.
"Um,... thanks." He tells the girl as she finishes up, probably looking relieved to be done with Will's fitting.
'YOUR Turn big guy!" He declares, indicating an elaborately overdecorated helmet with a ginourmous plume attached to the top. It doesn't look as if it can be worn without another person helping to carry it, much less like you could see out of it if you did!