
William WyrdRune |

“Don’t ‘spose any of you lot could understand that things yammering?” Pointing to the captured goblin.
Will brightens for a moment.
"Well,... actually,... um, that is, no. Actually. I speak several languages, but not goblin. Never could find a tutor that wouldn't try to eat me!" HE looks aside to Silas, and shrugs.AFter a moment he looks at the lady once more, and recognition dawns in his eyes. But, in what must be a proud moment for his friend Silas, manages not to blurt out that he recognizes her from the inn along the road.

Warden of Doors |

The guard nods to Addy's apology and hoists the goblin on a shoulder.
"Entirely my fault, Lady. I suppose I'll see if any of the dwarven craftsmen around here speak goblin or perhaps my lady's bodyguard will interrogate it. A good evening to you all."
He departs and Reeve Fergus packs up his kit, pulling the simple key he uses as a holy symbol around his neck.
"There may be some small discomfort in the morning from the forced healing, Lady Albercroft, but it shouldn't be anything severe. A glass of wine and I daresay you won't feel a thing.
"If that is all, I believe I shall turn in. Perhaps I'll see you all at the Masquerade tomorrow night. Abadar's blessings upon you."
With that, the priest walks back toward the center of the hamlet and his small chapel.

William WyrdRune |

"If that is all, I believe I shall turn in. Perhaps I'll see you all at the Masquerade tomorrow night. Abadar's blessings upon you."
"And to you." Will finds himself responding automatically to the priest's ritual farewell. He stands still for a moment, looking around at those still gathered. His looks at Silas, then hastily to the 'Lady'. He gives a small cough to clear his throat.
"Um, Hi! Nice to see you again." He says with a small smile on his face.

Marten |

"Milady," Marten says, bowing deeply to Adelaine (and kissing her hand, if she'll let him), "I am honoured to make your acquaintance. Yours, too, Master Kane. I am Marten Encarthan - a poor player, attending the masquerade in a professional capacity. Regrettably, I cannot understand this fellow's guttural tongue."
Marten wonders if the guard's assertion that they've never had a problem with goblins here before is true...
Knowledge (local): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7
Knowledge (history): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (8) + 6 = 14

Warden of Doors |

"Milady," Marten says, bowing deeply to Adelaine (and kissing her hand, if she'll let him), "I am honoured to make your acquaintance. Yours, too, Master Kane. I am Marten Encarthan - a poor player, attending the masquerade in a professional capacity. Regrettably, I cannot understand this fellow's guttural tongue."
Marten wonders if the guard's assertion that they've never had a problem with goblins here before is true...
Knowledge (local): 1d20+4
Knowledge (history): 1d20+6
Marten's heard nothing of goblin attacks, though you are admittedly new to the area. Given the geography and history of the region, however, Qadiran raids would likely be more common. The fact that the hamlet's gotten by with so few guards speaks volumes both for the uneasy peace that's settled between the two nations and for the questionable management of Taldor's remaining holdings. With so many ruins about and so few soldiers, it was only a matter of time before something like this occurred. Might be a lot of info for one check, but Marten, Will and likely Addy and Mal would draw similar conclusions.

Adelaine Harthos |

"Um, Hi! Nice to see you again." He says with a small smile on his face.
"Yes, I suppose. Although I admit you still haven't told me your name. From your friend Malatar, I gather it's 'Will'?"
Malatar nods to Lady Albercroft. “Aye. The Masquerade. We’re not following you, simply headed to the same place.”
Addy gives a light smile and replies, "Never said you were. Like I said, there isn't exactly much else that would be bringing people out this way. But you don't really seem the masquerade type, to be honest."
Silas smiles at Lady Albercroft and bows, "Pleased to meet you as well. My friend, Will, over here is quite impressed by you. May we have the privilege of toasting your valor?"
She gives a slight smile, although it seems very forced. "Not necessary. I do not believe you told me your name, either, though."
"Milady," Marten says, bowing deeply to Adelaine (and kissing her hand, if she'll let him), "I am honoured to make your acquaintance. Yours, too, Master Kane. I am Marten Encarthan - a poor player, attending the masquerade in a professional capacity. Regrettably, I cannot understand this fellow's guttural tongue."
Not having appreciated the garnering of unearned glory, Addy does not offer her hand to the newcomer. After he bows, she does say, "Yes, charmed to make your acquaintence, Marten. I am sure I look forward to your performance tomorrow evening."
Ferdinand stops and turns back to the group. "Gentlemen! How about we move these introductions some place warmer, that serves ale?" He gestures at the inn, the continues to head towards it.
'Lady Albercroft' brightens a bit at this, and says, "As usual, my cousin speaks sense. Although I hope the invitation extends to me as well, and not just the gentlemen? I may as well admit my quiet evening has been most thoroughly ruined, and I suppose the conversation will prove to be very interesting."

Malatar Kane |

Mal shrugs (in response to Albercroft’s comment) as they make their way back towards the inn. “Will and I are sort of here on official business. We’re with the Pathfinder Society.”
As the words leave his mouth, he suddenly realizes that it might not have been smart to announce their affiliation so readily. Being a Pathfinder can open doors – but it can shut them too, in certain situations. He’s not entirely sure why he was so forthcoming – maybe in some misguided attempt to impress the lady? Gods know she’d never slum it with me, even if I was the Grand Pushba of Qadira.
Ah well, no harm done, hopefully. The Society was active enough in Taldor, and it was not likely to be a secret that Quent had been invited, or that the Society might be interested in the artifacts on display at the Ball.

Adelaine Harthos |

Mal shrugs (in response to Albercroft’s comment) as they make their way back towards the inn. “Will and I are sort of here on official business. We’re with the Pathfinder Society.”
As the words leave his mouth, he suddenly realizes that it might not have been smart to announce their affiliation so readily. Being a Pathfinder can open doors – but it can shut them too, in certain situations. He’s not entirely sure why he was so forthcoming – maybe in some misguided attempt to impress the lady? Gods know she’d never slum it with me, even if I was the Grand Pushba of Qadira.
Ah well, no harm done, hopefully. The Society was active enough in Taldor, and it was not likely to be a secret that Quent had been invited, or that the Society might be interested in the artifacts on display at the Ball.
Addy's face briefly shows a bit of surprise, then she hides it again. "Really? The Pathfinder Society you say? How interesting." Dammit! Yet another fine mess our employers have us in, Gorzal! Fake Osirion artifacts, that would stand up to any noble ... but not Pathfinders!
"How long have you two been members? I ask only because while my title has been with my family for generations, my money is fairly new. I deal in Osirion artifacts, some of which were obtained by the Oppara chapter members. And some I obtained myself. I take it then you are here to look at the Lady Vestang's ... artifacts, hmm?"

Warden of Doors |

The six of you (I assume) retire to the inn. You are congratulated and thanked by those that are still awake. The dog's body has already been removed, likely for everyone's benefit. Just before entering the Dancing Tabi, Zareby can hear Haerekoe and Ruggles carrying on:
H: "We've waited long enough! He ain't coming back: just give me a peak at his cards."
R: "No, absolutely not. He trusted me with them and as a gamesman I must respect his wishes."
H: "Why, look at that, Ruggles: I think you dropped a few coins on the floor."
R: "What?! Where?"
H: "Oh, almost got it! I saw it roll into the corner there.... ah, crap. I fold."
The inn is quiet at this hour; the flushed innkeeper (he introduced himself as Jorn) looks up at your entrance. The scullery lad is nowhere to be seen.
"Ah, lords and lady. I heard already that you disposed of those goblins that were so harsh with Bernard. You have my thanks; your drinks and food are on me during your stay. Please, have a seat."
A well-dressed dwarf stoops, looking through the corners and across the floor for something while a handsome young lad smiles innocently at Ferdinand and offers a casual nod. Anyone that's spent time at the Dancing Tabi recognizes the tavern lad as Haerekoe and the dwarf Ruggles Ironbeard, a smith and waywright from these parts.

William WyrdRune |

"How long have you two been members? I ask only because while my title has been with my family for generations, my money is fairly new. I deal in Osirion artifacts, some of which were obtained by the Oppara chapter members. And some I obtained myself. I take it then you are here to look at the Lady Vestang's ... artifacts, hmm?"
Will is either unconcerned (unlike Malatar) about announcing themselves so readily, or blissfully unaware of it. Neither does he notice the sudden swift glance that she gives both he and Mal. At the mention of Artifacts he perks up quite a bit.
"My name? Oh, my name! Yes, it is Will. William, actually. William Wyrdrune, at your service." He says rapidly, sketching a quick bow.
"Yes, we're here as the official envoy from the local Pathfinders. I am most excited to be able to see the artifacts that Lady Vestrang had acquired. Osirion, did you say? Artifacts, I mean? What I mean is, did you bring any of your Osirion artifacts with you, to the celebration? I'd love a chance to examine them, if I may." Will (finally) manages to get out. He doesn't even look at Silas, and the red creeping up from under his collar tells what he thinks his friend will say about his first 'performance'.

Adelaine Harthos |

Will is either unconcerned (unlike Malatar) about announcing themselves so readily, or blissfully unaware of it. Neither does he notice the sudden swift glance that she gives both he and Mal. At the mention of Artifacts he perks up quite a bit."My name? Oh, my name! Yes, it is Will. William, actually. William Wyrdrune, at your service." He says rapidly, sketching a quick bow.
"Yes, we're here as the official envoy from the local Pathfinders. I am most excited to be able to see the artifacts that Lady Vestrang had acquired. Osirion, did you say? Artifacts, I mean? What I mean is, did you bring any of your Osirion artifacts with you, to the celebration? I'd love a chance to examine them, if I may." Will (finally) manages to get out. He doesn't even look at Silas, and the red creeping up from under his collar tells what he thinks his friend will say about his first 'performance'.
"Ummm ... yes, well, I mean I have brought some traveling replicas, if you will. Most of the actual ones I deemed too expensive to risk on the trip. Still, the replicas are quite good, and only someone as learned as yourself would likely notice."

William WyrdRune |

"Ummm ... yes, well, I mean I have brought some traveling replicas, if you will. Most of the actual ones I deemed too expensive to risk on the trip. Still, the replicas are quite good, and only someone as learned as yourself would likely notice."
Will looks truly crestfallen at this bit of information.
"Oh. That's, too bad. I mean, it's very good thinking! Keeping your actual artifacts safe, and having replicas made for others to study and enjoy." He recovers with a half smile, and straightens up a bit as he realizes that she complemented him. Sort of.

Marten |

"It's a distinct pleasure to join you, Ferdinand," Marten says, pulling up a chair and tossing his hat onto the table. "Is that what you like to be called - Ferdinand? You seem to be a bit of a regular here - what can you recommend to drink? Do they have a decent wine?"
I'm ready for the party when everyone else is!

William WyrdRune |

Bluff 1d20+8
EDIT: Wow, now I get a natural 20!
Heh, wow. :)
William raises his eyebrows, obviously surprised at the lady's rank, and her willingness to indulge in bladeplay with goblins! He glances at Silas, half expecting him to have a comment,...
"A pleasure to meet you, all" he adds the last smoothly, with a barely noticeable pause.
'Heh. This small talk isn't so hard! Silas was right.' He thinks to himself. Right before the inevitable foot-in-mouth disease strikes!! ;P

Silas Tyr |

Adelaine Harthos wrote:Okay, I think it's pretty well impossible for anyone to beat that. You guys can continue role-playing for a while if you want; otherwise just say the word and we'll gear up for the party.Bluff 1d20+8
EDIT: Wow, now I get a natural 20!
Silas smiles at the lady's statement.

William WyrdRune |

Say, wasn't Will looking for a Marten Encarthan, the actor son of one of his history professors?
Why yes, I believe he was! :) <blush>
Will blinks as something registers, and tears his gaze away from the fighting noblewoman. He steps over to the table.
"Excuse me sir, you DID say your name was Marten? You wouldn't happen to be Marten Encarthan wold you? If so, your father was one of my History professors at University!" He says enthusiastically.

Marten |

Marten looks up at the clean-cut young wizard, shifting a little in his seat. "Ah, you knew the Old Man, did you?" he says. "I'm sure he wouldn't approve of you traipsing around out here, getting your boots muddy, when you could be holed up in the library cross-referencing some papers."

Marten |

"Me, Milady?" Marten says, a slight smile on his face. "No, I'm afraid not - though I did play Octavius Quillt once, in a show called Demon Chaser, based on the Chronicles. If even half the stories in those books are true, it must be quite an exciting life! Mayhap Will and Mal can tell us more?" He catches the eye of a server and orders a glass of the wine that the lady is drinking. Turning back to the table, he winces a little, his hand going to his side.
"Ah - that goblin caught me with quite a nasty blow," Marten says, by way of explanation. "I'm lucky I put my hauberk on before I came out, or else I'd probably be lying in the street with that dog! But you got a lot worse, it seems, milady. And finished the blighter off with a dagger before I could talk him down! You certainly know how to take care of yourself in a scrap."

Adelaine Harthos |

"Me, Milady?" Marten says, a slight smile on his face. "No, I'm afraid not - though I did play Octavius Quillt once, in a show called Demon Chaser, based on the Chronicles. If even half the stories in those books are true, it must be quite an exciting life! Mayhap Will and Mal can tell us more?" He catches the eye of a server and orders a glass of the wine that the lady is drinking. Turning back to the table, he winces a little, his hand going to his side.
"Ah - that goblin caught me with quite a nasty blow," Marten says, by way of explanation. "I'm lucky I put my hauberk on before I came out, or else I'd probably be lying in the street with that dog! But you got a lot worse, it seems, milady. And finished the blighter off with a dagger before I could talk him down! You certainly know how to take care of yourself in a scrap."
Taking another sip of wine, Addy gives a slight smirk. "Yes, that seems to surprise a lot of people. Most folks underestimate the nobility, often would good reason, I might add. But I made much of my money dealing in Osiriani artifacts; many gathered by people in my employ. Some, though, I found myself." Addy lets the last statement hang in the air for a moment, before finishing off her first glass.

William WyrdRune |

Marten looks up at the clean-cut young wizard, shifting a little in his seat. "Ah, you knew the Old Man, did you?" he says. "I'm sure he wouldn't approve of you traipsing around out here, getting your boots muddy, when you could be holed up in the library cross-referencing some papers."
Will looks quizzically at Marten. "Well, he certainly taught me the value of solid research, look before you leap and all that, but I don't think he'd disapprove,..." He trails off.
"Anyway, he mentioned that you might be in the area, and told me to tell you hi if I ran into you. Um,... 'Hi',..." WIll fades off again as realization (slowly) starts to set in.
"So. Your a performer? What's your specialty? SInging? Dancing? Acting?" Will asks MArten, taking a large swig if the nearest mug. (Not necessarily checking to see if it's his or not.)

Marten |

"I'm an actor, for my sins, Will," Marten says, giving the young man a rueful smile. "But I've been told I can hold a tune, too. You'll be able to make your own judgement of my skills at the party tomorrow." He pauses to knock back the remainder of his wine, and quickly order a bottle. "How about you? Any interests outside ancient artefacts?"

Warden of Doors |

When you're ready to move onto the party, here's the synopsis:
The Masquerade or "Madame's Exotic Fish"
After the eventful evening, the Pathfinders and party guests retire to their tents and lodgings to get a good night's sleep for the party tomorrow night. The hamlet is even more abuzz with activity than before with final preparations and the air itself is tinged with excitement and anticipation, perhaps even some nervousness after the story of the brazen goblins gets around.
With sunset, guests wearing all manner of store-bought or recently tailored costumes start filtering onto the manner grounds. The guards (dressed in patriotic red and blue tabards over their armor and wearing lion masks) greet the guests as they enter; though they stop Malatar to look at his fake blade, it's nothing more than a cursory look to be sure the ends aren't sharpened or anything like that and to make certain the warrior understands that the wooden blade remains on his back for the entire event.
The landscaped courtyard is lined with colored lanterns leading to the large double doors of the estate. A greenhouse on the right with an expensive glass ceiling remains open, but the stables and carriage house on the left and the guardhouse on the right remain closed. The pediment over the entrance is decorated with paper lanterns and garlands of flowers, with the winged eye of Aroden hung on the top.
Entering the manor, you pass through a carpeted hallway and through another set of double doors into a grand hall. The crystal chandeliers throw golden light throughout the room in stark contrast to the waning orange and purple sunset outside. Masked guests mingle throughout the room, stopping to admire pedestals set with art objects or to clap while a troupe of Varisian performers in colorful moth costumes juggle, dance, play music and perform acrobatic stunts. Four tall, slender servants in fish masks carry trays of wine, fruit and other finger foods to the guests.
If there are any unsung heroes of the masquerade to be singled out for praise, it would be the costumers: though there is a notable gap between the costumes prepared on the premises and those purchased in Oppara and further ports of call, no guest looks under-dressed or less than splendid. Half-masked ladies mingle with birds, bees, monkeys, insects and all manner of other creatures.
Toward the center of the large chamber is what must be Lady Vestang, dressed in a bejeweled gown of off-white, her face half-masked and crowned like an empress. She is quite young, perhaps 19, and possesses a slender build likely attributable to her half-elven parentage. With the Lady Morrow on Silas' arm for handy comparison, the lothario priest can easily see why this Duke Sallin would choose the masquerade's host over his patroness. At her side is a tall, older-looking man with his chest puffed out. He wears a decorative military uniform and a bearded mask of an Azlanti man wearing a crown of laurels. The man with the military uniform is flanked by two men dressed as wolves. They speak with an even older gentleman in an ornate peacock mask; he speaks animatedly, gesticulating in the air while the hostess and the other man nod politely. Hovering nearby is another tall servant with a surprisingly regal bearing clad in a squid mask and accompanying outfit.
Will:
Making the rounds, the rest of you can notice a man dressed in a half-mask that gives him a prominent forehead and nose to set off the neatly groomed false beard on his chin. He is dressed in the fanciful robes typically seen on sculptures of Aroden; he speaks at length with many of the guests, often in verse from popular plays. Young men and women (peasants, by their less elaborate costumes) clap, laugh and cheer at his witticisms. That would be Marten, playing the crowd.
In the rear, the doors are open to a patio where some of the guests mill about in the fresh ocean air.
Okay, let me know what you're up to.

William WyrdRune |

Winding down at the tavern-
"I'm an actor, for my sins, Will," Marten says, giving the young man a rueful smile. "But I've been told I can hold a tune, too. You'll be able to make your own judgement of my skills at the party tomorrow." He pauses to knock back the remainder of his wine, and quickly order a bottle. "How about you? Any interests outside ancient artifacts?"
"Oh. Oh! Yes, quite a few, actually." Will replies, pulling out and sitting in a chair. "History, obviously. I'm not so good with performance, but I once memorized the entire epic poem of the journey of the Eargo. All three volumes!" He smiles happily,...
Sorry Marten, but YOU asked for it! ;P
The Party-
Will looks around, even his mask cannot hide the fact that he is gawking like a peasant. His bird-masked head continuously bobs from side to side as they first enter, making him seem very bird-like indeed. Getting elbowed by Silas, he self-consciously adjusts his feathered cape and lion-skin tunic, even though the weary costumers had done a wonderful job, and it fit comfortably. Although it may be getting tad warm by the time the evening was done, Will mused sourly to himself.
His first response to play tourist over now, he settled in to work, although he happily partake of something from every tray that passed by. Except for one. The tentacles he was willing to try, but the the tiny squids on crackers still had the eyes for Nethys' sake! He let Malatar handle most of the introductions. He simply bides his time until he gets to take a lok at the artifacts himself.
As they meander through the hall, (working their way towards the displays with agonizing slowness), Will entertains himself by identifying the various creatures and persons represented in the myriad of costumes. When he directs his gaze to the dias,and the person obviously their hostess, even the bookish Will raises an eyebrow in appreciation of her beauty. When he looks at the others on the dias, a small, strangling sound comes from inside his Avian mask. Mal and Silas soon ealize that he is attempting, barely, to keep from laughing. Finally he raises his own mask so that he can whisper to his friends.
"Judging by his posture, the hostess' companion seems to think that he is dressed as an Emperor. And it's a common enough mistake. But in fact, it is widely established that Azlanti dungsweepers wore such chains of fragrant plants to help mask the odor of their profession."
Will looks at both Silas and Malatar with childlike glee. "He's a pooper-scooper!" The wizard snickers, hastily pulling his mask back down to help disguise his mirth.
As they continue through the crowd, (or, more usually, being forced around BY the crowd) Will continues to make short, polite conversation to various people. He even tries to use Silas' lessons once or twice. All the while his attention is obviously drawn more to the items on display than to the charms of their hostess.
Silas, let me know if you have a 'request' for a spell you want me to carry, and i'll have it ready for today! I have Disguise Self, but not Charm Person, I'll take that next level!

Adelaine Harthos |

Prior to the event
Addy spends quite a bit of time preparing for the masquerade, making sure she spends every attention to detail on her costume of the Osiriani Pharasman priestess. Once done, she'll ask Gorzal (who obviously had to wait outside the tent) how it looks. "So, what do you think?" she inquires. "Of course, I can't forget the most important part ..." Addy takes one of her daggers, and tries tries to conceal it under her costume.
Stealth or Sleight of Hand (same bonus, regardless) 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (18) + 6 = 24
When Zareby arrives to pick her up for the event, she looks him over a bit. "My, 'cousin', you're sure looking fiery tonight," she says, noticing his dragon costume. "Shall we?" she asks, as she waits for him to offer his arm.
Arriving at the party
Walking in (presumably on Zareby's arm), the 'Lady Albercroft' takes in the spectacle. Despite the role she's playing, this was the first time Addy had ever been to one of these events. She takes in everything, both in awe and disgusted at the display of wealth and extravagence.
Her gaze drawn to the center, Addy is a bit surprised when she sees the Lady Vestang. Don't know why I expected an older human woman, but I did, she thinks to herself. Turning to her companion, she asks, "So, do we introduce ourselves to our host, or wander around a bit?"

Zareby Grenache |

When Zareby arrives to pick her up for the event, she looks him over a bit. "My, 'cousin', you're sure looking fiery tonight," she says, noticing his dragon costume. "Shall we?" she asks, as she waits for him to offer his arm.
Arriving at the party
Her gaze drawn to the center, Addy is a bit surprised when she sees the Lady Vestang. Don't know why I expected an older human woman, but I did, she thinks to herself. Turning to her companion, she asks, "So, do we introduce ourselves to our host, or wander around a bit?"
"Good to see you're as witty as always."
At the party...
"Ferdinand" smiles beneath his mask. After all, it's not every day you experience this level of opulence. Even the glitziest gambling den he could hope to buy his way into couldn't aspire to the sheer class of this party. Yep, this trip was worth it, even if he has to act as a noblewoman's servant for a few days. Besides, at least he can get away with not wearing his gloves for a few hours.
"Well, we wouldn't be very good guests if we didn't meet with our host now, would we?"

Warden of Doors |

Will and Mal work their way through the crowded hall; women flirt back playfully at Will's clumsy attempts, but it seems more the festive mood than anything he's said, unfortunately. Of greater interest, however, are the plinths holding artifacts and a few finely made masks hanging on the walls. There are bits of sculpture: friezes, statuary, jewelry and various other objects. The guests "ooh" and "ah" with the appropriate awe at the off-white bits of marble and stone.
Give me an appraise or history check for more on the Azlanti artifacts.
A girl, likely no more than fifteen and with the mask of a beautiful woman, her elaborate gown trailing behind her, approaches Mal in his barbarian costume. "Oh, sir,"she says,"You look positively uncouth! What a perfect costume for these rustic surrounds! Are you an Ulfen by birth? Perhaps your comrades are waiting in their longships off the coast?" She may already be a little drunk...
A trio of men dressed as vultures work through the crowd, gobbling food from the passing trays and making dark jokes about the other guests; as they pass Lady Albercroft, they leer with undisguised (possibly exaggerated) lust or hunger. One says,"Milady, you look fine enough to eat, I daresay! A shame you're a bit too lively for the likes of us..." The others laugh at his jest, though the last jokingly cautions,"Oh, but I wouldn't want to risk her escort, Darl, else you'll be the main course! And well done, I'd reckon!"
The Lady Morrow smiles in her stately costume: a priestess in sheer golden robes composed of layers of transparent and opaque fabric, offering glimpses of the body beneath as she walks arm-in-arm with Silas. She has a pair of gold armbands, each emblazoned with a trio of wasps. "Shall we visit with our hostess, Master Tyr, or would you prefer a more indirect course of action.
Meanwhile, Marten finds himself in conversation with the dwarf and tavern boy (a boggard and an impish warrior, respectively) from the previous evening's "goblining". "Lord Aroden, in your infinite wisdom, do you think those three goblins from last night could mean...", begins Ruggles Ironbeard before Haerekoe cuts him off: "Cayden's casks, Ruggles, can't you relax for five minutes? All you've had to talk about since last night are those stupid goblins. It's taken care of! Our dear friend "Aroden" here took care of it, right?"

Malatar Kane |

Upon entering the manor, Malatar manoeuvres towards one of the fish-masked servants, snagging a glass of red wine with one hand and some sort of meat filled pastry with the other. However, he soon realises that his wooden snarling barbarian mask covers his mouth. Shifting the mask upwards with his forearm, he exposes his mouth, and is still able to see (just) out from below the mask.
Refreshments taken care of, Mal follows Will, making sure to subtly steer the mage towards the pedestals with the artefacts, ahead of him partaking whatever scheme the smarmy elf wants to involve him in (although that worthy, whilst nearby, seems somewhat occupied by the richly dressed woman on his arm). “Let’s get our job here done,” he mutters, “then we can concentrate on enjoying ourselves. You’re the ancient artefact expert, though I’m happy to add my opinion if you want it … Once you’ve assessed them, maybe we can speak to Lady Vestang if you think it necessary, see if we can pump her on where she came by this stuff.”
They continue to move slowly through the room, making their eventual way towards the artefacts at the far side, without looking like they are rushing over there. Will comments on Lady Vestang’s escorts costume. Malatar can’t help but snort in amusement once the historic error is pointed out to him, “but,” he cautions Will, “you may not want to mention that to him, or too loudly in general. Probably won’t see the joke, and we don’t want to put him or our hostess off side.”
They reach the pedestals, and Mal casts his eye over the pieces (more interested in anything that looks like it might be encrusted with gold or jewels, or might be a weapon or other instrument of war, than the possible historical significance) whilst Will examines them more closely. It is at this point that the girl approaches him.
He looks at her for a moment, the amusement in his eyes hidden by the shadow of his mask. “Oh, I’ve travelled and fought all through the savage north,” he answers momentarily in his best barbarian accent (which is probably not very good, but is at least as gruff as his normal tone), “and sailed throughout the Inner Sea and beyond.” Never mind that he was hung over the side of the ship sick a good deal of the time.
He considers the girl for another moment. Bedding a lass as young as she seems is only likely to bring trouble, and he’s not inclined to take advantage of her drunken state. Still, he’s rarely enough an object of interest to young pretty girls that he doesn’t mind indulging her for a little longer. “Malatar I’m called. What’s your name la – I mean my lady?” he asks, bowing very slightly.
Appraise: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4 (untrained) on the artefacts.

William WyrdRune |

KNow: History:
1d20 + 9 ⇒ (13) + 9 = 22
I'll take it! (Best this dice rollers been to me yet!) ;)
Will smiles at the girls replies, completely oblivious to the fact that his delivery simply isn't that good. When an obviously young woman approaches Mal, Will rolls his eyes behind his mask. 'FIgures. Life is so unfair.'
His main focus is still upon the artifacts though, and finally his patience (thin though he admits it is) is rewarded, and it is his turn to gaze upon these 'wonders of the ancient world'. He studies the masks on the walls, and the pedestals with bits of barely identifiable pieces on them, and looks for identifying marks. He is quite happy to be doing so, and becomes completely oblivious to the party at that point. He comes out of his own little world when the person behind him 'accidentally' bumps him, encouraging him to move along. He reluctantly does so, moving to the next piece on display. But his attention is drawn by the trio of 'buzzards' annoying the hostess.
'Hm. Either they're very drunk, or very stoopid. Even I know you don't go annoying your host at a swoirie! Heh. Better be careful boys, or her escort might 'sweep you out' with the rest of the offal!' He muses, and returns his attention to the artifacts.

Adelaine Harthos |

A trio of men dressed as vultures work through the crowd, gobbling food from the passing trays and making dark jokes about the other guests; as they pass Lady Albercroft, they leer with undisguised (possibly exaggerated) lust or hunger. One says,"Milady, you look fine enough to eat, I daresay! A shame you're a bit too lively for the likes of us..." The others laugh at his jest, though the last jokingly cautions,"Oh, but I wouldn't want to risk her escort, Darl, else you'll be the main course! And well done, I'd reckon!"
Addy gives her best, non-humored and predatory smile, replying, “I appreciate the compliment boys, but I’m afraid I’d be liable to give a serious case of heartburn.” She looks at their costumes, and adds, “But perhaps you should visit my sisters at the Lady’s temple; I’m sure they could find something … cooler and stiffer, to suit your tastes.” With a laugh, she pulls ‘Ferdinand’ away, heading towards the Lady Vestang.
But then Addy notices the artifacts. “Ahh, Ferdinand, it would appear our hostess is occupied at the moment. Perhaps we should instead take a look at the artifacts she has so thoughtfully put out for display. They look very interesting, yes?” Then another thought hits her. “By any chance, you wouldn’t be able to tell if any of them are magical, would you?”

Zareby Grenache |

But then Addy notices the artifacts. “Ahh, Ferdinand, it would appear our hostess is occupied at the moment. Perhaps we should instead take a look at the artifacts she has so thoughtfully put out for display. They look very interesting, yes?” Then another thought hits her. “By any chance, you wouldn’t be able to tell if any of them are magical, would you?”
"Ferdinand" shrugs nonchalantly at the trio as he's dragged away.
"Hey, you see one valuable piece of pottery, you've seen them all." However, his eyes light up when she mentions magic. "Of course, every gambler knows you have to know how much is really at stake..." With a mumbled word in an unknown tongue and a flick of his taloned hands, he looks upon the artifacts with a hungry gleam in his eyes.

Warden of Doors |

Will:
Zareby can detect no dweomers or lingering enchantments on the old jewelry or statuary; they're just a bunch of old stones to him.
Appraise for Addy: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 2 = 14
Addy:
The young noblelady curtsies to Malatar.
"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir. I am Lady Mabriel Gennivaro; my family has holdings outside of Oppara..."
She seems startled for a moment.
"Oh, my! Would you be Malatar of the Pathfinders?" She doesn't wait for a response before continuing,"I should have known with such a barbaric costume that you would be personally familiar with such savages! Please, you must tell me of some of your adventures! Have you ever slain a dragon? Have you been to Osirian and seen that giant scarab they say is in Sothis? How terribly exciting!"

William WyrdRune |

Will examines the next piece in line just as eagerly, but with a slight hint of a frown on his forehead. As he examines more, he becomes more thoughtful, and not nearly as excited as Mal and Silas might have expected him to be. (OF course, they are both currently occupied, and may not notice).
He moves through the line silently and contemplative, and mostly cooperative with the crowd, rubbing his youthful chin as if he had a goatee. Finally he turns to find Malatar, and sees him speaking with a young, and apparently unescorted, lady, whose costume is pre-Azlanti 'invitation-to-get-a-man-in-trouble'.
"That is SO unfair!" He softly declares petulantly to no one, apparently having forgotten that he has already made that observation,...

Malatar Kane |

She’s heard of me? Although intellectually Mal knows that she probably just saw his name on the guest list (and remembered it thanks to the glamour attached to the Pathfinder Society in certain circles), he can’t help but be a little flattered despite himself.
Careful Mal. You’re headed for trouble… oh come on, surely a little light conversation can’t hurt anyone? Malatar can almost picture the two little figures standing atop his shoulders. Against his better judgement he sides with the guy in the red with the horns.
“Dragons? No … see, the thing with dragons is they’re not nearly so common as the stories make out. Every hero went around slaying em, there’d be none left soon enough. And that’s not how the Pathfinder’s roll my lady … now barbarians, scoundrels, orcs, even a few ogrekin, those I’ve put to the blade in my time…”
Malatar notices Will hovering nearby, apparently upset by something, but he has forgotten his own advice of getting the job done first. I’m sure whatever he’s discovered with these old pots can wait a few more moments…

Adelaine Harthos |

"Nothing stands out, eh 'Ferd'? You know, it looks like the value of these things would be quite significant, but I can't help feeling there's something a bit ... weird about them. They just don't seem all that old, you know?" Addy looks around, and notices the mage she's seen a few times before also looking at the artifacts.
"Ahhh, there's that wizard from earlier, the Pathfinder. What was his name? Why don't we saunter over and say 'hello'?"
Addy walks over to where Will is standing, watching Malatar. Coming up from behind, she may startle the mage a bit. "Well, hello there, Master ... Wyrdrune, was it? Enjoying the party so far? What do think of these splendid Azlanti artifacts our gracious hostess has put out for our perusal?"