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A finely engraved invitation to the show pomp and circumstance arrived at noon last week. Though you may have heard of the show, the letter's weight and perhaps the gold lettering took to your vanity. Had not someone mentioned it during tea? No matter the coach brought you safely here. Many a fine carriage was lined with regal guest hopping into the establishment. The lights dimmed the curtain arose....oh my.
A fashionably dressed elf sits behind a wide bar. His coat is of velvet crochet, with by Abadar fine gold buttons each one appearing as a Taldan marker. Oddly enough the Taldan crest also seems to move around slowly across his coat (sometimes cenetered on the back, sometimes on the sleeve, or on the left front pocket. His shirt and pants appear of a silken quality. Both hemmed in gold..or was that silver. A pair of fine shoes likely just purchased today round out the ensemble. He does not appear armed, which is good.
More oddly around the perimeter of the stage (behind the bar). there are a host of chefs turning out a variety of foods. The fellow speaks.
"Forgive my amusement,. We elves are known by race for merriment, so I am oft required to act the part. My invitation was to theater..so here we are. It was of course named pomp and circumstance - well we're all Taldan here so that takes care of one and the circumstance is my query to you.
Who wants some Rum! My name is too difficult in the tongues of men, so I've chosen the alias Righty. Many of you know me as the Marquis du Ruum. A merriment of the monarch for services rendered...well lets be honest shipments of Ruum.
Do come up on stage I promise noone will be the wiser. I've spent a few favors to have any unwanted spies and prying eyes disposed off. I daresay the local slave quarter is conveniently placed here in Absolom. And, if such things are beneath your station...there are masks at each seat.
May I also add, the pheasant is divine (the elf samples one with a flourish). I daresay his shirt was gold before, and has turned to silver.
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Forgive my vanity. I ran across this feathered cap which instills the disguise spell on my person. So instantly I recognized its value as an instant change of clothes. Fashions change frequently in dear Taldor so by Calistria I shant be behind the times... unless fashions change faster tham every 6 seconds.
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A soft, high-pitch laugh sounds the entrance of a small female gnome. Her small, stout form bearing a dress of black velvet and satin stitched with pearls and diamonds. The trim a heavy, yet soft, calico. Around her neck lay an intricate holy symbol of Nethys craft of polished ivory and jet. White gold earrings and rings compliment two fantastically jeweled rods to finish her exclusive evening wear.
"My, my, my, I must say that I can get used to this. What fine company, I daresay my intrusion upon such a lovely party a scandal, but I hope to enjoy myself good Marquis de Ruum. Andor, fetch me a drink."
She waves her right rod dismissively and floats in the room, preferring to not touch the floor. An unseen force fetches a small cup of rum and brings it to her.
"While I may work for the Ruby Prince I grow weary of dungeon delving. I have found enough musty tomes and wrinkled scrolls. Might I assume that our present company enjoys in the indulgences of the finer things in life?
Where are my manners? Forgive me, I am Fireeza. Is it customary to bring a gift? If so I can send Andor out to retrieve some fine wine and sweet morsels."
She sniffs the rum wrinkles her nose.
"And do you have any sweet wines, preferably red?"
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A gnome, and Osirian, Righty gives a glance to the guards who seem to be very nervous. "Why not!" The guards relax somewhat. Provided you're a pathfinder... He scans your reaction just in case.
Alcohols are my trade, well front actually. Noone inspects the bottom of a fine bottle of wine, and gems / notes / etc. fit ever so well inside. Reds for Rubies, Whites for Diamonds, etc. etc. Abandon your servants, we have a host of choices and by your interest I think a elven Red would suffice.
The finer things in life - for sure. In fact I've headed out on the path of adventure on more than two dozen occasions, bringing some fair amount of treasure home. Sure I spend my ill gotten gains on a variety of might and magic, but also on fine wines, whisky, merriment, and song.
Yet the reason for this event is in similar mind. The last few times out have been near catastrophe. I daresay death is looming ever closer. Maybe the captains no longer find my merriment amusing. So I find myself on suicide missions again, again, and again. But Death is not here today, today we enjoy the precious life and the friends which make success against all odds possible.
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With a small nod the cup of rum is returned to the bar, while she remains completely oblivious to the presence of guards.
"Go home Andor. Forgive me, I am not of noble birth, although from a very powerful line of sorcerers. Spells of comfort seem to come naturally to me, and after all these years of being sent out and being used as a hammer for Osirian I would like to change sides.
You see, I was not always a woman. I happened upon a cursed item which has left me in my present state. Luckily I am still able to fulfill my family's expectations of me in finding a suitable partner for continuing our bloodline, and I know that there are many fine Taldon consorts. I am still learning the aristocracy but I am hoping my dowry of both riches and prodigious powers would be enough to have the less contrary accept me to such dinner parties as these. This is an appropriate discussion for the evening is it not?"
She floats high in the air and looks around at the other guests for a moment before gliding to the bar for an order of Elven Red. Once poured the cup begins to float and follow her as she coasts over to the Marquis. With a casual flip of the wrist she releases her hold her right scepter which remains steadily in place and picks up the cup of wine.
"Please forgive Andor, he gets scared easily and refuses to leave my side. It's so hard to find good help these days. Ah, Elven Red, it almost sounds sweet to say. Now tell me, Rummy dear, do you happen to have a knack at the arcane arts?"
She exhales loudly as she gets comfortable, sitting mid air.
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Rummy is an odd title, but its suitable enough. My knack is more towards the integration of blade, spell, and stealth. The origin was Rogue, my dual major was Magus, and my graduate work has been of the Arcane Trickster school of magic. Although I say things were educational in nature, I really didn't pay much time in school. Hence when it comes to study my depth of knowledge is very sparse beyond the areas of local events and arcane theory. Practical skills however, are extensive.
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Fireeza smiles, swirling the sweet liquid around.
"One with your skills must know a thing or two about the social ins and outs of the Taldan aristocracy. Perhaps you may be able to assist me with becoming a Taldan in my own right? I've always been able to take care of myself but I can't help but find myself at your mercy."
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There you have me at a loss. My main skill is the crafting of mortality liquids. The beurocracy has been my primary client. The nobility has not been as receptive. So, I've modified my attire with a title. Now I can sell to a grander crowd. As most of the poisons are in liquid form, the bottles are an excellent carrier.
Righty smiles, no need to fear I just make poison I never use it. Besides I also rarely kill anyone, save by decree. Blood is distasteful, stains the clothes. How can anyone learn when they're dead. Even most undead have no method of learning...some do, but if you build logic on every option you can have no certain ground.
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Into the hall, amidst the gentle sound of trumpets, and a wish of scented silk and satin, and a slight tang of black leather, strides a tall, angelic Elven woman attended by a man in black evening attire. She stands nearly 6 feet tall, black lace,and a black leather bustier, flowing satin skirts all of the latest fashion. Her shoulders are bare with a generous decolletage, her sharply featured face slightly obscured by red lace hat, perched precariously on the side of her coiffure. From the top of the stairs she dismissively surveys the room, then steps forward, her legs not disturbing the fall of her skirts.
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Benrill looks up from his nap "oh, well i found him on the warmest coast, a warm style i suppose of penguin" as he pushes off a squirrel that seems to be stuck in his beard " you know rightly, Taldor is a great place to work for, i wish we could work more with the druids, and clerics of other nations to get some trade going for the great empire you know, since my friends here always like different types of fish, and nuts alike"
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"I'll take your word for it. Personally, I think the best hope for Taldor is Stavian's daughter. She's a wild one, let me tell you! But that's aside from the point." At this point Kyros takes off his helmet, revealing that his once-handsome complexion is horribly scarred on the right side of his face. "I've taken my beatings in adventures, but I always come back with a few items." He takes out two quills, one brown and furry, the other black. "owlbear and harpy respectively. Does anyone else have any such memoirs?"
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Kyros, trophies were not my thing. I was ordered to bring a head back once. We got a riding dog and pickel barrel. I don't mind the money. I don't mind the odd wand once and a while. Heck I don't even mind the "steal this" or "burn that down." But I do resent being the Taldan Post Office. I swear I've died and been reborn as a porter.
I"ve kept the riding dog and put a sign on him (TPO) Taldan Post office - We'll deliver in 2 days or your money back. That's the rub right, we never get paid so I never have to pay out for late delivery.
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"For goodness... *sighs*" He then gets up, and orders a drink "These scars... while they show proof of my loyalty to the Society, it does make it hard to figure out how to keep your lady love." He gulps down his glass of wine "I've taken to masked balls partially exposing my face." He points to the unscarred side. "And were not even talking about the rest of my body. How is life in the Post Office?"
OOC: After a particularly difficult module, I decided Kyros should be scarred after all his adventures. Trying it out.
"Greetings and well met fellow Finders !"
A youngish humanoid of questionable birth swaggers in.
" I am new to the area and thought this a good a place as any to sit a spell and chat with the locals."
The apparent clothing definitely marks him as an adventurer.
Supple doeskin and silk make up an interesting sleeveless robe, matching hakama and woven grass/reed bracers complete the ensemble.
"I come from far off Ustalav, or i should say, the boarders of Ustalav and Belkzen,"
Now you are able to place the mottled grey skin and orcish features. Slight as they are, he's definitely half orc, and one might say the other half is Varisian.
"The traveling was a long one without a horse or wagon, that's a story to tell ! So pray tell, what brings you fine folk to this region ? Wine ? Women ? Song ? All of the above ? " His laugh reminds you of the rumbling earth.
Within a couple strides he makes it to the group and without so much as a nod he pulls up a seat.
"Dont mind if I join you fine folk do you ?" Not so much a question as it was a statement. " I'll, let me see what you guys have there ..."
Peering over at the fine selection of liqueurs. " Oh !, this one looks good ! Blue bottles, love them, always had good luck with their contents when we were running around the countryside and dark nether regions. Mind you the rest of the folk I was with never really thought so ! Oh well, to each their own."
For a half breed this one seems well spoken and quite mature for his age.
" So, what are we all talking about ?"
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Kyros - there are worse things than scars. Winning sometimes bears rewards that are inconvenient. Losing can be far more permanent, and harder to remove. At least in fair Taldor the worst I can expect from failure is a stern glance from our beloved Glorianna. Fulfilling a mission for Cheliax could land me in a much hotter environment.
Gray - I do love a good introduction. The phrase is a personal favorite of mine. The blue bottles are liquor of Varisian origin. I dare say they are called Grappa and a liqueur derived from the distillation of grapes. An unseen servant delivers a tumbler of the clear liquid to your hand. (Righty appears to have a fair number of seen and unseen servants milling about)
The discussion is as you like, I enjoy the company of others. It appears although this party started Taldan that others have joined in, moreso to the skill of the Pahtfinders and less to the ability of guards to do their task... At least I only paid them half in advance.
My main reason to assemble thee was threefold. First, I've recently accomplished another mission for Dear Taldor. Second, I've acquired the title of Marquis du Ruum. Thirdly, I am very much nearing one of two ends. Either, I'll likely die on one of these suicide missions the venture monkeys send me on. And when I die, I won't return from Arvandor. Or, should I survive six more suicide missions I'll retire to my island estate leaving the Pathfindering to you fine fellows.
Tomorrow we may die! Tonight we drink!
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Gyros I never knew thats why you were all ready about dying. You should come with me I keep my talls in fighty stabity order. Since violence is below me. I keep the meanies from hurting you guyeses. And I came in here to make fun the of the Tal-bores for being a fallen apart "I wanna be a kingy-king nobly person" and I find a decent tall like you Cries are in here drinking with these uppity up ups.
"Please excuse me Kyros, I couldn't help but overhear that you didn't appreciate 'The Barbarian of Seville'. I found it to be a delightful comedy. If a bit to predictable. Now having said that i do hope you take that in the sarcasm it was meant !"
" I'm not one for theater, I get my fill out on the open road having to deal with various sod's and ne'er do well's. The forests of Ustalav on the other hand are a delight, with their lycan's and dead things running about !"
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A veritable storm of oddities. I should have named the show, cirque de fantastical.
Strange times when theaters have zombies for fighting. I guess next time I'll find a lawyer to raise some dead for you Kyros. Best dirge I've encountered in a theater is some weird half crazed bard who thought he could handle a group of pathfinders single handed. No encore to that performance.
I've often been sent to Varisia, but strangely enough I don't make it past Riddleport's temple of Calistria.
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We've had our share of odd introductions this night. No dearie, I am not a wizard. The term is Magus. Although I can also be called an Arcane Trickster, for my rougish ways. Seems you've had arcane trouble in your past, yet tonight is not of olde langsine. It is of the moment, and we merry few who survive the venture monkey meat grinder.
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Glowing brightly with arcance magic as many active spells(huanted fey aspect, light,mage armor, arcane mark, & prestidigitation) Ponti Chimes in
"Yeah wizardy smarty pants know it all are no fun. They are bully wizards, but so are Matcheses like Righty-lefty. I prefer nice pleasant magic like Color Spray. Plus those wizardy type abuse their magics and use them for silly purposes."
" Huh ?! , Who is farming cysts ? That's not right, one must farm some sort of beneficial vegetation of some sort, whether for consumption, ascetics or shiz and giggles !"
" This growing of unnatural cysts, I shall not let go unpunished ! It's a blasphemy to the land and all i hold dear !"
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"What if they farm cysts on themselves like one of them cancer magicy people. Those are the only cysts I am aware of. So I do not farm cysts since I am an awesome gnome. I dance to trick the guards while I sell pesh to earn money for a better awesome hat. The lizard men in the cloth wall hangy taught me how to make it. Well Coby Kyros what awesome magicy things have you done? You are a Grand Boring, but I can not hold that against you since you are a silly tall..."
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"Medicines? Who needs medicines? I cure light wounds. Like when my porter Rat-food, I named him that because he was almost ratfood. Well anyway he carries me, and was almost killed by a rat swarm. So I can cure people too. See why I am so great. Every pathsearcher group should have a gnome like me or Yzarctihstab Garblenarf he is pretty awesome too, but not as much as me."
"Gnomsies arnt bad ... quite tasty in a soup with beets and rootabegas !"
earth rumbling laugh
"I joke of course, of all the gnomes i have met there isnt one i havent liked. Oh wait ... there was this one little fella, name of Quellan, from the jungle I think he was. Bothersome one he was, kept trying to steal everything from us. Not the borrowing kind of way either. So after the third time of beating him sensless he finally took the hint !"
" There was this one performer from Numeria, he studied in comedy. Good chap that one. Funny as they come. Got run out of town after one performance, seems the mayor had a heart attack from one of his jokes !"
"But overall, i do notice one thing about gnomes in general, what they lack for in size they make up in personallity !"