"Well, good luck in your search." Yuri does not think the official harbors any hopes for his success. "What name will the bride be taking?"
The man sighs. "Dwarf Beard, marital tourist. Next please."
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Hamish marches down the gangplank like he's coming home, the Seaward Gull sailing along behind him.
"Ah, now this is a proper town!" He claps Omrax on the shoulder as he is talking to the official, inserting himself into the process before the man can ask too many questions. "Don't mind my shiny friend here. Every shindig will have its sticks... firmly entrenched in the mud... who knows, perhaps we'll find a bride for him too! Though she might be more like to shiv him on the wedding night, as anything else. Har!"
"Hamish Carmody O'Toole, captain of the Seaward Gull." He exclaims, then motions behind him, where the ship sits on the dock, gently swaying from side to side, as if being lapped by waves. "A saltier group o' sea dogs ya will never have the pleasure a meeting! We'll run this town red, likely lose all our coins, and maybe find ourselves pressed into service on some derelict scow by morning... but I'll be damned if we won't have fun gettin' there!"
He drops to a conspiratorial whisper. "Is Ol' Mabel still workin' the tables at the Downspout. We had a bit of a misunderstandin' last time I was through here. Rather not find meself wed at the point of a shiv. Woman scorned and all that, right? Such fates are for these poor dogs! Har!" he grins at the others.
He seems to be doing his best to, support Yuri's tale... though you think he might be a little too invested.
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Kasimir, protected by a non-detection spell, nods at the guard. ”Just a simple priest of Asmodeus, here to spread the word to the masses. Might as well be on the winning side, eh?”
Kasimir looks to see if the guard has an obvious holy symbol of any kind. ”And what was the last time -you- were in a temple, my friend? It doesn’t pay to be on the bad side of the god of slavery, you know.”
He’ll see if the guards temporary embarrassment causes him to forget to ask his name.
Bluff
Kasimir is happy to keep the support spells rolling indefinitely.
Does he have time along the trip to get off a commune?
While on-board ship, Kasimir will keep a water walking prepared, and drop the extended tongues
"Nor does it pay to be on the bad side of the assassin god." The official waves his quill in dismissal of the idea. He looks pointedly at Hamish, having already taken down the captains name without comment. "Good luck converting the pirates. Does Asmodeus grant you a particular title, 'Father'...?" He trails off expectantly.
Omrax recognizes the mentioned god as Achaekek, the deity worshipped by the Red Mantis Assassins. As long as Kasimir is not found out as a Pathfinder, they are unlikely to interfere with a priest of Asmodeus. Having taken down each of your given names, the clerk turns to the rest of the ships disembarking passengers, few as they are.
Securing a table at one of the dockside taverns is easy. Keeping quiet proves a small bit tougher. As the serving girl takes your orders, it quickly becomes clear that the port is on high alert. Red armored patrols walk the streets, stopping passersby for questioning without hesitation. Guile will be needed to slip through the streets to your objective, else fast talking will have to come into play to avoid suspicion.
Whisper remains outside on the rooftop of the tavern inn. He keeps a low profile and keeps watch. He is careful not to stray too far from his master moving towards the center of the roof if necessary.
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Rokgurn will stay on Omrax's shoulder as his hunting companion. He appears to peck playfully at one of Omrax's ears but is actually whispering very softly into it.
"Whisper and I can scout out the path ahead and steer our party away from any red garbed patrols. These people are hardly subtle and should be easy to spot from the air."
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Watching his comrades in action, a look of understanding crosses Yuri's face. "Oh, this is one o' them sub-tull like missions, ain't it? Alrighty then, ain't no one can be as sub-tull as an angry dwarf when he puts his mind to it!" Yuri pulls from his wine flask - again - as he has been doing more or less continuously - but in a noticeably more delicate manner.
The serving girl gives Omrax an incredulous look as he asks about the party. "Haven't heard of any way to get an invite. They keep the unwanted out of their fancy party." At Hamish's boast, she rolls her eyes. "Friend of Strake's? He lives on the northeast end of the bay. When you see the four ships, you'll know." She outlines the directions better on a napkin.
Flying above the city to scout the route and possible transport points, Rokgurn sees that most of the district is barren land among the stone streets and constructed buildings. The nearest vegetation appears to be outside the walls or on the islands of the lagoon. Transporting there would require making the way across the water unnoticed, while traversing the walls would cut the distance down but still expose the party to the chance of patrols. He is able to confirm the destination, where four sleek pirate ships are run aground to form walls around a cozy villa. One problem appears to be solved as no staff blocks the entry, allowing guests to come and go unchecked.
Turning into an alley out of sight, a pack of hawks soon rises up over the buildings, winging across the port city with no fanfare. The rest of the party gets a good look at Stanton Strake's villa as you spiral down to land. The four beached ships are arranged in a square, with added planks forming them into a solid wall. An open gate carved through the center of one hull provides entry to the garden beyond.
No guard stands before the gate, allowing you free access to the party beyond. Food and drink fill long tables, replenished by liveried servants in pirate affectations from the stone villa at the back of the garden. The garden hedges are landscaped into roiling waves and even sport miniature sailing ships among their leaves.
While dozens of guests are in attendance, even Yuri is able to read the unease of the gathering, as conversations appear muted and what mirth can be heard is not full throated and free. Most of the looks you catch seem directly to an aged but still devilishly handsome human man seated at the feasting table. He appears to be polishing a fine shoe with careful attention. Some distance away, a grizzled man sporting an eye patch that seems more authentic than the costume of the servants stands, also wearing the colors of the house. Attended by a coterie of hangers-on, two finely dressed women, a green haired elf and human, laugh with the air of the pleasantly inebriated. Another human woman pulls deep from a mug, the picture of reckless abandon with tangled hair and well used blade hung at her hip.
Whisper tries to remember if any of the people that they have just seen are people of any importance to their mission.
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Omrax-hawk notices that none are gnomes.
So talking with their contact will likely be required....not in bird form.
• I will guard the honor of my fellows, both in thought
and deed, and I will have faith in them.
• I will be temperate in my actions and moderate in my
behavior. I will strive to emulate Iomedae's perfection.
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Rokgurn leads the others to a quiet area away from prying ears.
Speaking softly he begins.
"It would be best if we kept the group attending the party small. People that would blend in with this group of brigands and thieves. Hamish and Crazy Hairy perhaps?
He pauses for a moment.
"No offense."
"The rest of us can stand prepared for battle as the tension level at the party is sky high."
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Crazy resumes his batwinged gnomish form and offers a bow. "I prefer rakish raconteur, but potato poe-tot-toe."
Crazy then begins preparing himself, as he starts drinking, gargling and schlurping down a variety of potions, elixirs and extracts. With a flourish, he takes his cognatogen and emerges from the transmorgrification as a female halfling with butterfly wings.
With a wink at Omrax, Bombshell says, "All set...