Chapter 1: All the King's Men

DoNotFearToTread · June 6, 2023

HP: 19/19 | AC: 15 (18 arm/20 shl) | Fort: +6 Ref: +5 Will: +5 | H-Points: 1 | Languages: Common, Orc, Celestial

Current Conditions: None

Active Abilities: None

Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap

Hrotha, so focused on the task at hand, didn't see the woman in her path until it was too late. A failure of awareness she would not soon repeat as she sucks in a deep breath against the dull throb left by the woman's shoulder. She looks first to Alexis, then to the larger Ulfen man as he makes note of the woman's name. It wouldn't be forgotten. She gives the larger man a nod and adds a soft laugh to it.

"No troubles, really. I'd rather be half-bred than have no breeding at all." She offers the large Ulfen her hand as she uses the other to brush the spot on her outfit where the Trant woman had brushed it. It was not light tap and the power behind it makes Hrotha all the more eager to put that strength to a proper test, but choking out a fellow noble on the senate floor would definitely bring their business to a halt and she can't afford that. "Of course I know Langrave Jarlborne by reputation. One doesn't ignore when an Ulfen finds a senate seat. And I'd expect no less a vote from him." It is regretable to her, as they move in a group filled with song and laughter, that she doesn't speak the Ulfen tongue. Her mother was rather insistent that 'Taldor is now', and in truth Hrotha never had an ear for languages so picking up on one that wasn't spoken often proved too arduous. Breaking away from the others as they rummage around the servants quarters is easy enough, as it doctoring the bottle. Almost too easy, and again the nagging doubts about whether this act is going to hurt someone tickle the back of her mind. She hasn't made it far out of the wine storage when someone else is vying for her attention, but this person might actually deserve it. Kalbio, the man of the hour, and probably the most deserving among them.

"Nonsense, sir. Everyone knows you." The whole matter of choosing one random person to elevate to a position of authority feels entirely performative and absurd, but if it dilutes the pool of entitled blowhards leaning on tradition to keep their way she can't argue against it. She offers the man her hand, a gesture she feels she'll grow quite tired of before the night is through. "Hrotha Vinmark, and you're not wrong. Lord Lotheed and I are well aquainted..." Holding out her arm, she waits for him to interlock his own so that they might move together through the crowd. "...and soon, so shall you be. What weird looking lady, might I ask?" Passing through the crowd, she pauses on the periphery of Armen's conversation with his brother. She knows little of the man but enough to not trust him, but then that could be said about so many in her social strata. "I know this all must seem like a lot. Even being born into it, I find these events overwhelming." She pats Kalbio on the bicep before releasing his arm and offering him a smile. "Keep smiling and stay strong. Perhaps we can share a drink when this is done?" Stepping into a pause in the conversation, she grabs Armen's attention as gently as she can before directing him to his new admirer. Slipping away before she can get roped into conversation is no doubt a job of its own, but she has intentions with the Baron that demand her time so she can't find herself there soon enough.

"I have it on good authority that this bottle won't disappoint. Sadly, I cannot say the same for myself." She pours the contents into his glass and cradles the bottle in the crook of her arm as she waits for him to try it. "I've been assigned a message to accompany it. A reminder that favors are owed to Lady Martella Lotheed, and that your voice is requested in support of the vote today." She frowns around the words, distateful as they are, and takes a moment to form her thoughts before she continues. "I dislike being the messenger in matters of obligation that are not my own." It call to mind her parents, in a way. The way they would use her to ferry snide messages during their fights. Leverage her favor to spite the other. They seem in better sorts now than when she was a child. Perhaps the pressures of noble life required some settling into. "The Lady's message is secondary to my interest in our conversation, Baron. Knowing how Martella would have you push the vote, and as a man of action by your own words and reputation, I would genuinely like to know your leaning on the topic." She sets the bottle down on the nearest flat surface and turns back to him, with a hand on her hip as the other scratches her neck at the hairline. Wearing her hair up like this feels odd, and it is the form and texture of the do that makes her uncomfortable. A hair out of place is truly noticeable in a situation like this. "Ignoring that fact that I am a woman with designs on a life outside the kitchen, study and bedchamber. Do you believe Taldor can survive through reliance on the tradition for tradition's sake?"

Spektor · June 7, 2023

Lorelei Albrecht

Human Osirionologist Magus (1)

HP: 17/17 | AC: 17 | Fort: +6 Ref: +7 Will: +5 | Hero Points: 1 | Languages: Azlanti, Osiriani, Ancient Osiriani, Varisian

The explanation given by Lady Morilla is both surprising and inspiring. Lorelei cannot help but allow her jaw to drop slightly. Her eyes glisten with newfound respect. This Noblewoman had instilled two ideas in the Librarian's mind: First, that one should not be so quick to judge others based on their usual political leanings. People are multifaceted, and while the general populace can be swayed by misinformation and charismatic leaders, if they are given the chance to actually think for themselves, the political lines quickly become blurred. The second thought in her mind is that -- as proud as she is about her own performance this evening -- Lady Morilla quickly deflated her pride in one swift speech. Just as she was beginning to think she might have a knack for this social industry, the Lady showed her that she had a long way to go before she could explain her views in such an inspiring way, or sway others in such a powerful fashion.

"My Lady, what a powerful metaphor you have given." The meek Librarian's eyes peel away from the Noble and veer towards her shuffling feet. Her voice trembles and quickly transforms from the confident projecting tone she had been displaying to her usual reserved mumbling. "I am inspired to view the political leanings of others through a changed perspective. Thank you for that." She finally raises her head and watches the smooth hand-off of the items meant for their skullduggery. She bites her bottom lip and looks past the Lady's shoulder towards the group of individuals that had been pointed out to her by Greyrose. It seems the Inspector has stepped up and engaged with the fellows, and she thinks that is just fine. He seems to know what he is doing and confidently holding his own in the conversation -- a conversation which is quickly joined by both Hrotha and Armen.

Lorelei blinks rapidly and looks back to Lady Morilla, offering a slight bow of respect. "My Lady, I thank you immensely for your time, but I must ask of you my leave. There is much to be accomplished this evening in the name of progress." A knowing smile finally reaches her face, causing her rounded cheeks to look a bit more plump than usual. It did not help her juvenile appearance. With one more bow, she parts from Lady Morilla and moves towards the next room, actively seeking her targets. If she ended this evening without accomplishing her goals, she would be mortified. And with how swiftly the others in her group were moving, she felt it would not be long before they were all already finished with their tasks. Once more, she would be in last place. Once more, the immense pressure would most likely be her downfall.

'Sha an'en.' The voice spoke from deep within her, almost inciting a jump from the sudden fright that filled Lorelei's heart. 'Bring back the confidence? Oh, if only it were so easy. If you think this is so simple, why do you not just get out here and do it, hmm?!' Why was she even discussing anything with this figment of her imagination. Was she truly going mad? This was their first job as senatorial aides, working towards a future of progress. Did she really crack so easily? 'De'beh ba re-a'-khet. Sawedjh ba re-a'-khet.' Lorelei stops suddenly in her hurried stride and clenches her eyes shut and places a hand to her chest. 'Please. I do not want whatever you are offering. I do not want your battle spirit. Just leave me be.' It does. It listens to her, even when she feels as if no one should. She is thankful for that, at least.

She passes by the conversation shared by Greyrose and -- 'Is that Lord Lotheed!? Armen's brother!?' -- It is. She is suddenly thankful that she has left such a conversation to those more talented than she. She tears her eyes away from the group and stares forward with newfound determination. She can do this. She just needs to find her targets and bring back her confidence, as the voice said. She just needs her battle spirit; her ba re-a'-khet.

Great. Now she is starting to listen to her broken imagination. Truly she has lost her mind.

OoC

Lorelei is not stopping until she is forced to, or until she finds her targets. She will be constantly on the lookout while making a determined stride through the various chambers. If possible, I'd love to use any knowledge I gained asking around about Countess Pace and Duke Centimus. Let me know if it makes a difference as far as rolls go.

Edited June 7, 2023 by Spektor (see edit history)

Rider Z · June 14, 2023

Juvenal de Ari-Cato Karthis

"Now, I know there isn't exactly a sign that outright says 'don't feed the bees.'" Juvenal said as he slipped to the side of the blonde haired woman, face leaning down in that indiscreet way of his as a hand lifted to the open door of the apiary. Not quite closing it, but seemingly ready to. Subtlety was the art of Taldor, the beuatiful method of social fencing perfected over the course of a thousand years and more. Juvenal, of course, was not a traditional artist. Not in the slightest.

"But I suspect its rather implied, hmm?" His head cocked, a fluff of hair falling over his face as he gave that smile. The one with his signature mixture of playfulness and feigned innocence. It often found use in functions such as these, but usually when he was on the receiving end of an interrogation. Rather than where he found himself now, as the inquisitor. The role reversal was most entertaining to him and it shone through in that smile.

"Though, mayhaps, I am mistakened?" His hand on the door stood up, his fingers dancing up its side slowly. His eyes still stared at the woman. Smile and head still cocked. "Perhaps you know more than me? Perhaps even I am making a fool out of myself, accosting the Mistress of Apiaries here in the Senate Hall. Am I?"

Gregorotto · June 15, 2023

Juvenal locks eyes with the woman, who freezes, her hand holding the strange wafer-shaped thing; the bees that get near it become irritated. Juvenal attempts to distract her, and things stretch on for what feels like forever.

Lorelei has plenty to think about, with Lady Morilla giving her quite a change of perspective. Tradition does not mean reactionary like the High Strategos: tradition does not necessarily even mean conservative. It is merely the threads of identity that must change over time, a dress one wears that is a facsimile of the true past, but recognizable and true to that heritage. After all, wearing the same dress for eternity would ruin it, and it must be repaired from time to time. But time and tide call Lorelei away, and she heads onward, just as Eutropia approaches Armen, the voice of the hour. The intermediary is a dark-skinned Garundi woman with bright yellow eyes, wearing modern spectacles and a dress of gray and black suggesting a Nexian origin, magic in her every step. "The Princess wishes you to know that she was moved and delighted by your performance," she notes, her voice husky and frank, and Armen struggles with his own words. Eutropia is the image of grandeur, youthful despite her age, pristine despite being among the masses. Her rusty brown hair catches the lights of the garden effortlessly and her gaze is one of sincere but relaxed approval. He says his piece, bowing, and her smile flickers from irritation to not; he catches this and begins to excuse himself. "One moment, Master Lotheed. You could play every verse conceived of our anthem for the last four thousand years and you could not have gone overboard: not tonight. Dedication is a fickle thing, and the other side of the line is zealotry. You straddled the line and danced like a Vudrani spirit dancer, filled with the spirit of your god: you danced like a Dawnflower Dervish. We are lucky to have you on our side, and the future of our nation is assured with people like you at our side. I would like to speak more, if possible, with you, and perhaps, some of your companions later. I understand you have business: but once the vote is done and this business is behind us, and the elevation has taken place, we will have plenty to talk about. You've a bright future, I'll see to that." With that, she offers a bow of her head, and Armen excuses himself to do his business.

Hrotha, meanwhile, has been busy. With Ulfen songs behind her as Alexis does his duty and now with a new friend in tow, Hrotha has found herself in the middle of a new kind of mess. She recalls more about the Trant woman: aside from being her father's attack dog and her mother's joy, she is handy with a blade and strong to boot. She's been known for breaking more than a few young men's jaws, and is quite aggressive with her affections, physical or otherwise. Brash and with the subtlety of a Spawn of Rovagug on parade, Malphene Trant is not one to be taken lightly. But the approach of the meek young soon-to-be-elevated Kalbio offers a ready distraction, and she is glad to introduce him to Armen, already creating quite the fanatic following. As she, Armen, and Lorelei all approach the Emperor's Hall, Greyrose has found himself in the middle of an occult secret society impromptu meeting. The offering Greyrose gives is met by the men with sudden glances to one another, all ending on Bartleby, who cannot hide his grin. "Well well, and who do we have here? I'm not familiar with you friend, but I'm happy to know you. Bartelby Lotheed, Count of Meratt, Tribune of Lotheedar, and Landgrave of the Hyden Marches. And you are...?" But then, Greyrose's reputation precedes him once again, it seems. One of the men, with a mustacle not unlike a snaking mane on his face, widens his eyes and smiles. "My goodness, you're the Greyrose! I've read about you almost as much as I've heard about you; I was actually there when he solved the Phantasm of Falconcrest Manor!"

Bartelby's own eyes widen, suddenly grinning more widely. "The Greyrose, eh? And here I had half-convinced myself you were a charlatan: and you're speaking our language, aren't you? Either you've been well-trained in the long con, or you're the real deal! Now, what is this offering... oh, bloody frakking Hell, all nine of them...." Greyrose turns to spy Armen approaching, and Bartelby's glance becomes a glare in record time. "You know Greyrose here, hm? Curious company you keep: but hello, brother. I hear you've made quite a fuss." The men behind Bartelby all look to one another disapprovingly, looking down their noses at Armen, while Bartelby grins. "Father would scold you for that song, if half of what I've heard about it is true, but he'd approve, deep down. And that rendition of the anthem? Reminded me of mother. She carried a tune so well. Now, what brings you here tonight? Hopefully that Qadiran mule isn't responsible for your sudden civic turn, and you've abandoned that ridiculous nihilistic nonsense." His eyes pass from Armen to Lorelei for half a moment, then back to Armen; then back to her, as she moves out of sight. He looks back to his brother again, hoping for an answer, and then to Greyrose, looking for an answer.

Behind, Hrotha has a young man who would like to be introduced to Armen, if at all possible. Once introduced, Kalbio, meek and thin and youthful with worn hands, grins and looks like the world's happiest puppy. "P-pleasure to meet you, M-master Lotheed. And Mistress Vinmark, I absolutely owe you a drink. But I, uh, I wanted to say you play like an angel, and it was wonderful, and I wanted to ask if you knew any rustic tunes. This big city music is fine, but a fiddle is fit for reels and jigs. I was, uh, hoping you knew some." And with that, Hrotha is off, detecting a big blush on Kalbio's face, as if he's meeting his greatest crush. Lorelei, meanwhile, has plenty to inspect but finds this section is mostly just a passing gateway between areas. Few people of note are there, but there are plenty of people; the door to a back room is partially open, two Ulfen guards standing before it; curious, but not noteworthy. She moves on, heading for the Senate Chamber and beyond.

Baron Okerra is much as Hrotha left him, and for good reason: he's tired of all of this, though the sight of Hrotha with the bottle changes his demeanor entirely. As she begins to pour him a glass, his enthusiasm lessens in anticipation of the political melee he's learned to expect. "Of course she does, damn the woman. She's too clever for her own good. She helps avoid political scandal and suddenly you owe her a favor. If not for my honor she, and you even, could stand to shove it." He looks at her disapprovingly, takes a drink, then smiles. "But this helps." Hrotha admits her own reticence and Nicolaus sighs as Hrotha collects herself, bottle down. "Those are hard things to ignore: no person is a single thing, be it opinion or scholar or chef worthy of the praise of the gluttons of the Abyss. I am not just a soldier, I'm a father of a beautiful clever devil of a girl; I'm a widower who misses his wife; I'm a man trying to find his place in a new world, his bladehand looking for something new to cling to. Even in the depths of battle, a man contains multitudes, Hrotha, your father included. Did you know he sings when he's scared?" She did not know that.

"Tradition is a boring old thing, but it serves a purpose. It unites a people to a single identity. When you create a regiment, you instill in them tried and true traditions and you make a proper unit of them. Those things that don't work? You discard. I see no reason to keep going with this male-only inheritance business. My wife was much wiser than I, much more powerful. She deserves to be Baroness and I her consort, but Pharasma has a funny way of twisting our fates. Eutropia is many things. Firebrand, progressive, troublemaker; but reformer, philanthropist, and, I believe, honestly good. But will goodness change the course of Taldor in these ever-changing seas? Well, it would be nice to try it, for once, instead of just letting any old batshite insane fellow with a funny hat call himself 'Grand Prince.' I've met plenty of nobles who were less noble than the men who served under them. I've met women who were more masculine by far. I've met people of every sexuality, every gender, who defy expectation and quick study. And so I defy anyone to quickly sum up someone, and be right. Give change a chance, and you'll be surprised what new traditions you embrace. Gods know I've had to embrace that philosophy with wild abandon." He takes another sip.

Throughout all this, Juvenal has had a stare down with this woman, this serving girl. His words ring true, but unfortunately, the "bee food" slips from her hand and she flees: immediately the bees rise up in protest and begin to buzz angrily, the entire hive; the two beside it do the same, as if in solidarity. Juvenal is standing down three swarms of bees, and soon, the bees disperse, heading for the crowd; guards cry out, and Eutropia is taken inside by her guards and attendant into the Emperor's Hall. The attendant stays behind, taking out a fan and swiping not far from Baron Okerra and Hrotha. "Bloody Hell... shall we, Hrotha?" Inside the Emperor's Hall, Greyrose and Armen immediately note the rush of people, with Princess Eutropia catching Armen's eye and nodding to him as she moves on into the Senate Chamber, where Lorelei is just finishing up her inspection and moving on.

Well before the sudden rush of people from the Gardens, Lorelei has been sizing up the Senate Chamber, its marble halls and depictions of glorious events present for all to see, and the most people found here of all places. She spies a few faces she knows in passing: Baronet Duranis Cicato, speaking to a group of women about military matters and the need for reform; Lady Zariyah Clement in a heated discussion with a group of men and women about the need to liberalize noble station, with the Marquess Charlotte Deschamps clearly irritated at her and not quite disagreeing, but questioning the need for it; a paladin in a red feathered cloak frowning at a dismissive woman in a green dress who heads up the steps to the Gallery, leaving him trying to find his patience and finding it fleeting indeed: this is Lord Remilliard Kastner, she knows not from assessment of noble characters but from the annals of the Pathfinder Society, as a paladin of Ragathiel, the General of Vengeance, though Lord Kastner is much more relaxed and more into the redemptive power of that vengeance. As Lorelei finishes her assessment, she heads into the place closest to her heart: the Imperial Archives. Her dedication to her mission leads her to completely miss the uproar as the bees drive people inside.

The Imperial Archives have a reputation among librarians and Lorelei has always been curious about it. Taldor has one of the largest repositories of knowledge in all of Golarion, yet this meager offering, the shelves and reading rooms, are a carefully curated, politically-bungled fraction of what could be greatness. The Senate has, over millennia, pruned books, hidden entire events, and damaged priceless artifacts in the names of putting forward their very backwards version of history as the truth, and that's what shows here. At first glance, it is impressive, but a causal look, without open any books, and Lorelei knows the rumors are true immediately. Signs of damaged spines, entire chunks of books missing carelessly. How deeply embarrassing. But that is not why she is here: she is here for a reason, and that reason makes itself apparent.

The Archives do not have many people, but they have enough. In one reading area, Duke Georgi Backus Talbot II reads a book on trading in the last century, no doubt trying to find ways to strengthen his trading empire. Elsewhere, a rotund man in a wheelchair argues with a brightly colored gnome woman, who pouts and runs away, past Lorelei and into the Senate Chamber. The man in the wheelchair glares after her, rolls his eyes, and goes back to his reaching, trying to get a book just above his ability to reach; when that fails, he pulls a level on the arm of his chair and a claw arm rises from behind him, grabbing the book and bringing it down to him: it's a book on artifice.

Leonard Centimus was once a handsome man, if reputation is anything to go by, joyous and brightly intelligent. Five years ago, a horse riding accident brought that to an end, and Leonard has refused any divine intervention into his new reality. Having gained weight and his temperament having changed, if the rumors are even remotely true, the half elf duke has obvious hints of his Tian heritage in his hair, in his skin tone, and the shapes of his eyes.

He gives Lorelei a furtive glance, and gets to reading.

Out of Character

Map Key:
A1-Arcade of Triumphs (T20) PCs Present Notable NPCsHigh Strategos, Maxillar Pythareus (T3)
Grand Duke Avernathus (T20)
Vicountess Octavia Nicodemius (T10)
Earl Calhadion Vernisant (T5)
Copernia Vau (T7)
A2 (T20) PCs PresentJuvenal
Hrotha Notable NPCsBaron Nicolaus Okerra (T10)
A3-Emperor's Hall (T4) PCs PresentGreyrose
Armen Lotheed Notable NPCsLord Bartelby Lotheed (T8)
Princess Eutropia (T20)
Lady Gloriana Morilla (T6)
Earl Gahez Varima (T4)
Kalbio of Breezy Creek (T10)
A4-Gallery (not pictured, above A5-7 but primarily 6) (T0) PCs Present NPCs PresentMartella Lotheed (T20)
Dame Malphene Trant (T0)
A5-Imperial Archives (T0) PCs PresentLorelei NPCs PresentDuke Leonard Centimus (T0)
Duke Georgi Backus Talbot II (T0)
A6-Senate Floor (T0) PCs Present NPCs PresentBaronet Duranis Cicato (T0)
Lady Zariyah Clement (T0)
Marquess Charlotte Deschamps (T0)
Lord Remilliard Kastner (T0)
Marquess Tanasha Starborne (T0)
A7-Servant Area (T-20) PCs PresentAlexis NPCs PresentLandgrave Ogvai Jarlbjorn (T20)

Event Notes

Event: 4

Each Event has a Social Round, a 15-minute or so period where you can attempt to influence a room or a specific NPC, complete a mission, etc. Each time you influence things, you may attempt a check, whose DC I will not provide. Excess points past the threshold convert to threshold points, which help build influence in each room. Per 2e rules, if you go a certain threshold past the DC, you can potentially double your points. You are restricted to 3 rolls per post, and are not restricted by the number of posts you can make per Event.

You'll need to go through each room to find out what NPCs are in what room, or find Martella. You can roll whatever you want to discover who is where and why, though just being in a room, I will provide hints. For the sake of nobility, Armen, Juvenal, and Hrotha can add +3 to their rolls to identify who a person is.

Event 3 has ended with the arrival of the bees, which disrupts Eutropia's victorious crowd and sends them fleeing elsewhere. Event 4 has begun but will begin in earnest next round

If this is unclear, hit up the Discord, and likely there discuss things anyway.

Missions

Influence the vote in favor of Eutropia
Determine the loyalties of the following Senators: Duke Centimus, Duchess Pace
Counter the influence of opposition Senators
Disrupt bees
Find serving girl who unleashed bee menace

And Event 3 is concluded!

Bees will not be a combat round. You can help get rid of them creatively however you like, or you can GTFO of there. If you stick around, roll against a DC 12 threshold on skills or attack; critical failure results in 5 damage. If you have an ability or feat that helps with a situation like this, use it and automatically succeed. Regardless, NPCs will be along to deal with the bees before long.

We are in Event 4 now, but I'll start that properly next round. Hrotha has already gotten involved in that tale without knowing it and everyone is invited. Lorelei has spotted one of her two prey, and can proceed accordingly.

I will now inform everyone that there are only 6 events, and I will begin reducing the number of social rounds as we go forward to make things go faster. Time is, in fact, of the essence.

Kavonde · June 18, 2023

Armen offers Bartleby a bow with a bit too much flourish and precision to be serious, then looks at Greyrose. He immediately gets the impression that he miscalculated; Greyrose seems to have immediately won over Bartleby and his companions, whereas Armen has presented himself as a target for their scorn.

Well, in for a copper. "Yes, I composed and performed a song for our esteemed High Strategos, capturing the many stories I've heard about his... horsemanship. He had a few critiques to offer, but I'm certain the next song I write about him will address them.

"Kind of you to compare me to Mother," he adds, mustering some actual sincerity. Say what one might about the woman, she certainly had been a spectacular musician. "And, yes, our dear sister Martella, is, in fact, responsible for my presence here tonight. 'Earning my room and board,' you see. I thought I'd use the opportunity to help make the future of this nation a bit brighter, so fewer people will suffer in the name of pointless ambition and politicking until Groetus breaks free of the Boneyard and brings all things to an end." He offers Bartleby one of his weak smiles, then casts it about the entire group. "And I must ask, have you learned gentlemen considered how you will vote this evening? I assume the allure of reason and progress will appeal to you all, given your renowned intellects. After all, blind adherence to tradition is the mark of a limited imagination and a timid mind, is it not? A weak man fears change; a bold man embraces it. I believe I've heard my dear brother say such words himself."

Before he can hear a response, Armen finds himself pulled a bit away from the crowd by Hrotha and introduced to Kalbio, the man of honor himself. He gives the man a polite (if weak) smile as he introduces himself, which brightens just a touch when he compliments Armen's performance, but then sours like bad wine when the man asks him if he knows any "fiddle" music. "I play a violin, sir--" he begins, disdain dripping from his voice, but then he catches himself. I just performed a bawdy tavern song about a man fornicating with his horse, he reminds himself. He looks at Hrotha, making eye contact for just a moment before she departs. She clearly thought befriending this pea-- soon-to-be nobleman would be beneficial to our cause tonight. He closes his eyes, takes a breath, and slips his Hrotha-Armen mask back into place. "I would be happy to, Lord Kalbio," he says with the best smile he can muster. "That said, the Senate floor has wondrous acoustics. Perhaps you would accompany me there?"

Armen leads the way to the Senate floor, making small talk with Kalbio and taking note of the gaggle of nobles present. He's particularly struck by the blonde man with the red feathered cloak, who radiates a frankly intriguing aura of strength and calmness. Do I know him? he wonders, searching his memories for any prior encounters with the man. Ah, yes. Lord Remillard Kastner. A champion of a god of bats or some such. He seems nice. Armen looks back at Kalbio, then back at Lord Remillard, considering. He looks to be a military man, like the High Strategos, but much less... intense? Insecure? Angry? Regardless, Armen feels compelled to make a good impression on him.

Finding a spot near the center of the chamber, Armen once more unpacks his violin and strums a few notes to garner the attention of a potential audience. Of course, it seems somehow wrong to play some folksy dance song here, in the very heart of Taldor's government. Which... actually makes it the ideal place to play such a song, he realizes. But he doesn't want to strike Lord Remillard as being too insensitive to the traditions of the chamber. After several seconds' deliberation, Armen decides upon the perfect tune: a lively piece about a humble farmer who was honored on a Grand Day of Ascension just like this one, whose folksy mannerisms and down-home wisdom turned the stuffy old men of the Senate on their heads and rekindled the love of their nation in their hearts.

Unfortunately, Armen realizes shortly after he's launched into the song that he doesn't actually remember most of the lyricsRolled a Perform of 10 on Discord.. Panicking slightly, he tries to modify the song to add high notes where the vocals should be, but the result is something of a mess. When Armen brings the song to a close and bows to meager, polite applause, he offers Kalbio an apologetic grimace. "Sorry. I started playing before bothering to check if I actually remembered the song. Will you excuse me for a moment?"

Embarrassed, Armen packs up his violin and retreats to a corner to collect himself. The confidence and courage he's been building up this evening have suddenly shattered in the wake of his poor performance. He sighs and leans against the wall, wiping his hand down his face. What am I even doing here?

After several seconds, Armen opens his eyes and looks around. And, to his dismay, he spots Martella up on the gallery that encircles the Senate floor. Oh, damnation! he curses. Tonight had been going so well; why couldn't Martella have been there for one of his various successes? He almost succumbs to self-pity and slinks off to hide somewhere, but somewhere deep inside of Armen, something stronger and made of iron refuses to let him yield.

One bad performance does not invalidate everything else you've done tonight, nor does it make you any less talented a musician.

Also, you need to talk to the man in the red cloak. We need to decide if we want him to be our father or our daddy.

... We do not need to do that, but perhaps, depending on where he ranks in Taldor's military, Princess Eutropia could use his support as a counterbalance to the High Strategos. He could be a valuable asset to the cause.

Fine, I'll go talk to him, Armen thinks begrudgingly. He pushes himself away from the wall, steadies himself, and then approaches the man in the red feathered cloak.

"Good evening, Lord Kastner," he says, trying to muster a genuine smile. (His face is getting very tired.) "Armentarius Lotheed. If you'll pardon my saying so, you don't look as if you're enjoying the festivities. I hope it wasn't my performance that's soured your experience." Before the man can reply, Armen looks for Kalbio and waves him over. "Have you met tonight's guest of honor, sir? I present the soon-to-be Lord Kalbio."

OOC

Since I only took one action during the last round of posts, I'm hoping I get to take a couple extra ones this time. They are:

1) Diplomacy to influence the Bartlebuddies.
2) Diplomacy to influence Kalbio.
3) Society to recognize Remillard Kastner.
4) Perform to influence the Senate Floor. (Already resolved on Discord.)
5) Diplomacy to influence Remillard.

Edited June 18, 2023 by Kavonde (see edit history)

Spektor · June 22, 2023

Lorelei Albrecht

Human Osirionologist Magus (1)

HP: 17/17 | AC: 17 | Fort: +6 Ref: +7 Will: +5 | Hero Points: 1 | Languages: Azlanti, Osiriani, Ancient Osiriani, Varisian

Lorelei advances through the Emperor's Hall with haste, casting her eyes across the entirety of the room while maintaining an aloof appearance. Or, at least she hopes she is. It would certainly draw attention to appear so desperate to find someone she does not even know. Given the amount of stares she has drawn this evening already, she needs to keep the appearance of a capable, independent woman. Perhaps entering with Juvenal was not the way to go, then. But what's done is done, and to be honest, she enjoys his company much more than she expected to. Sure, he does appear to be everything the rumors say about him: a lush; a miscreant; perhaps a bit of a rake. But he is not wholly unpleasant and she finds him to actually be quite humorous.

'What are you doing, Rory old girl? These thoughts are a distraction. He's an ally in your goals, and an unpredictable one at that. Now, where were we?' The internal monologue centers her focus enough to reveal a partially open door in the Hall with two guards standing watch. 'How curious...' She ponders, but does not let her eyes linger too much on the opportunity. Although, she does alter her walk so that she passes near the door much more closely than she would have. When she is at an angle that she feels she can peer inside, she stops and begins fussing with one of the straps on her heeled shoes. She makes a show of it, clearly struggling, and looks up to catch the eyes of the Ulfin guards with an awkward smile. "My good sirs, may you never know the pain and torment of walking in high heels for as long as I have this evening." She giggles playfully and internally winces at how 'girlish' it sounds, but it plays to her intentions well. The Librarian turns her head downwards, as if looking at the 'malfunctioning' strap on her shoe, but in actuality her eyes are peering towards the partially open door, hoping to get a good look inside. It only takes about a minute before she mimes fixing the 'issue'. She raises her head to say something to the guards once more and attempts to look wholly innocent, "One more problem solved by feminine ingenuity! I bid you both a good evening." She continues her emboldened walk.

Once inside the Archives, Lorelei's breath is taken away. One might think it is at the vastness of the collection, but in truth, her heart is breaking. "It is all true, then..." She says the words aloud, unable to keep herself from commenting vocally on the sheer destruction of history and, on top of that, the absolute torture these poor books have undergone. It is enough to drain a decade of life from any respectable librarian. She moves to one of the walls of books and brushes the tips of her fingers against one of the damaged book spines. "This is an absolute outrage. My darlings, what have they done to you?" Her face contorts into an expression horror and abject sorrow.

A moment passes before she realizes she's acting too much like herself when she is alone. Such moments have only been witnessed by the Library Director, Mr. Adams, and her own cringing ego, of course. At times when she thought the library was empty she would pass through the rows of books and talk to them like old friends. Things like 'Oh, Ms. Bleak Heart, I do recall your wonderful and terrifying tales of your encounters with the undead. Please try and keep the mood light.' or perhaps 'My my, Ser Green Knight, what a pleasure it is to see one amongst your ilk who has taken to the divine. Always a gentleman, you are.'. It's positively embarrassing, but it brings her joy. In her time of reading Self Help books, she's found a prominent theme amongst them is to never let anything keep you from doing something that brings you joy. It is hard enough to find in the world as it is.

Lorelei pulls herself out of that 'alone' version of herself and returns to the most polite and refined version of herself. Just in time too, as it seems Duke Centimus is here amongst the ravaged Archives. Of course he is. Why did she not think of that earlier? She watches as he struggles to grab a certain book and she almost moves to aid him, but her sharp memory reminds her that it is the quickest way to insult a man like Duke Centimus. Instead, she slowly traces her fingers across the books as she subtly moves in his direction. Once she is close enough that not having a conversation would be weird, she turns and gives him a polite smile. "Hello to you, sir. My! That is quite the device you have." She gestures mildly to the mechanical hand and the chair as a whole. "I am intrigued and impressed at the level of control you are able to assert over such a complicated machine." Lorelei bats her eyes alluringly and is immediately disgusted with herself, "Given your choice of reading, I imagine that you are the mastermind behind such a creation? I will admit, I have always had an interest in Artifice, but my academic mentor said that such things were not befitting a peasant such as myself, much less a lady. Alas my steady hand is seemingly meant only for calligraphy and the dusting of old relics." She feigns a forlorn expression that comes much more easily to her than the fake laughter from before. "I suppose that is just the way it is in our current political climate." It is partially a lie. She had taken a minor interest in Artifice at a young age, and had of course confronted no small amount of sexism in her search for more knowledge. But the truth is that she did not enjoy the art, nor did she have more than a passing interest in it when she delved deeper. Her interests lied more in history than it did the future. Or, at least they did until tonight. Even as she feels disgusted with herself for playing up her feminine charm, she also feels a flutter of excitement. Perhaps she is enjoying the role play much more than she is allowing herself to admit.

OoC

Action 1 - Create a Distraction to pretend she's fixing her shoe.

Action 2 - Perception to peer into the partially opened door.

Action 3 - Make an Impression on Duke Centimus.

BlackHat · June 23, 2023

Greyrose politely inclines his head at the praise and recognition but remains silent letting the scene play out between the brothers after Armen joins them. His piercing stare seems to take in every quip and exchange between the Lotheeds with an intensity of interest that he usually reserves for the dead. When Armen is pulled away and Bartleby's attention returns to Greyrose, the spiritualist stares back for a moment before speaking. "Forgive me, my offering of insight shall not be half as eloquent as Armen just put it." He gestures, vaguely, in the direction of Bartleby's wayward brother. "However, as you say, we share a common language - a pigeon-tongue of the occult - and I believe that you and your Brothers shall understand my meaning."

"My offering," Greyrose says dramatically, with a flourish, "...is thus: Change need not be feared, if it aligns with the True Purpose of the Brotherhood."

He pauses, allowing his words to sink in. "Princess Eutropia represents not just a challenge to tradition but also an opportunity for the expansion of knowledge and the empowerment of those who possess it. She embodies the progressive spirit that can breathe new life into your Brotherhood, so that may adapt and thrive in... perhaps even shape... a world that will continue to change, whether the Brotherhood does or not. Are you content to merely record the past, or will you wield the same pen to scribe the future?"

Greyrose pauses, just long enough for Bartleby and his Brothers to consider his words but sensing one of them is about to protest, he continues, "... Furthermore... I do not believe that you believe that your Brotherhood's traditions are so brittle that they would crumble if questioned. Is it not your nature to question, so that you may understand? They say that the strongest steel is tempered in the fires of the Nine Hells that you just invoked, Count Lotheed. Strength comes from adversity. Resilience is born from the crucible of challenge, not the sheltered embrace of stagnation."

Out of the corner of his eye, Greyrose witnesses the scene between Juvenal and the servant woman playing out much as he had feared it would. "I would love to delve deeper into how that which is dead and nearly forgotten may influence events which have yet to transpire ..." he says bowing to the men as though he must depart, but owes them an apology if not an explanation. "... but I sense a foreboding presence drawing near, shrouded in the hum of wings." Greyrose's gaze scans the air, as if seeing something no one else can see, as he exits toward the Senate Chamber... moments before the bees are agitated and shouts of alarm draw the men's attention to them. Perhaps Greyrose's cryptic parting words appeared to carry more prophecy than they actually did.

OOC

Going to take you up on the offer of "If you have an ability or feat that helps with a situation like this, use it and automatically succeed" and declare that perhaps his That's Odd feat alerted him to the bees and his Empirical Methodology which would let him Sense Motive as a Free Action alerts him to the servants intent and the confrontation with Juvenal, slightly before all hell breaks loose, with enough time for him to casually leave the scene, saying something cryptic that later seems to have meaning. Not like a charlatan though. Not at all.

Action 1: Perception (+7) to Sense Motive about the nature of Bartleby and Armen's relationship.
Action 2: Occult (+6) to shroud his rather straightforward idea in enough indirect language and symbolic allegory to pique the Brothers' interest and cause them to consider his words better than if he had simply said what he thought. Hoping this makes sense for planting a seed for their future votes but feel free to replace with Diplomacy (+2) or something if you need to..
Action 3: Perception (+7) to then Seek the fleeing woman who upset the bees and ran off. (Like, he left toward the Senate Chamber but will keep his eye on the woman and try to intercept her in the next scene if possible.)

Rider Z · June 29, 2023

Juvenal de Ari-Cato Karthis

"Egads!" Juvenal exclaimed as the bees bursted forth from the apiary, their fluttering wings making that incessant buzzing noise their kind was oh so famous for. Except in their excessive multitude, their buzzing combined into a cacophony that might rival a storm. Juvenal, for his part, was not at all in the mood for rain. Ignoring all rules of conduct when confronted with bees, he startled and moved away quickly to the inner buildings.

"I expect you to take full responsibility! Otherwise they'll blame me for this, and its not even funny enough to be me!" Juvenal called out to the servant woman as he exited from the opposite direction. His heels stepping along the grass and then clicking on the marble floor as he backed up into the emperor's hall. While he was usually just fine with taking the fall for such pranks and mishaps, this one ranked a bit too destructive for him. And direct. It was not nearly ironic enough for him to take credit for.

But still, as Juvenal retreated into the protection of antiquated hall he regained his composure. That task of which being done easier as he plucked a goblet of wine from the tray of a servant fleeing from the wall of bees as well. He took a long drink of it, feeling the sweet liquor light up his belly and clear his mind. And then he turned on his heels to continue walking face first, instead of in that drunken and backwards way of his. Just in time to catch the site of Greyrose, obviously moving to run after the servant responsible for such anthophila alarm.

"She's rather easy to startle, like a deer at the end of a lord's crossbow, so take care hmm? And have the hairy boy give me a call should you need back up." He said in passing to Greyrose as the two walked past one another. He was completely content to leave the task to a psychic sidekick. Especially if it meant he didn't need to risk navigating a sea of bees.

Otherwise, Juvenal was left to his main task. Which was... well it was rather ill defined in truth. Everyone else had such well defined concrete tasks, his seemed far more mercurial. Martella might as well have just said "Juvenal just be you." Which in truth suited him just well. So he stepped idly through the Emperor's Hall, stopping once to get another top up of wine, before making his way into the Senate Floor. There he posted himself up, ears prickling to hear any gossip or conversations he might inject himself into. As all nobles were truly want to do.

DoNotFearToTread · June 30, 2023

Hrotha Vinmark

HP: 19/19 | AC: 15 (18 arm/20 shl) | Fort: +6 Ref: +5 Will: +5 | H-Points: 1 | Languages: Common, Orc, Celestial

Current Conditions: None

Active Abilities: None

Not the Bees!

Hrotha watches Baron Okerra's face as he speaks, but she doesn't scrutinize it for signs of dishonesty as he might in the usual circumstance. Maybe she wants too much to believe what he is saying is true to his beliefs. If a man of his reputation, of his standing, would find value in Eutropia's argument then perhaps there is hope for Taldor after all. His points in favor of hesitation don't cause her thoughts to waver. Of course she's also considered what might result from pushing this agenda. What upheaval might be necessary to push the country further down the path to progress. As a woman of action, she would certainly rise to fight for the ideals but her connection with the nobility and the local guard does put her in a position of complication should such an event occur. What does give her true pause, though, is the way he lingers on the mention of his late wife. Something genuine and unconcealable seems to seep through as he does, and it works hard to break Hrotha's heart in its sincerity. What must it be like to be so in love that their loss would remake the core of you?

"Perhaps you should find yourself a place on the senate, Baron. I'd wager they could use more voices of reason among them." She weighs the practicality of what she just suggested, laughing softly to herself as her mind conjures the image of the Baron sitting stoic amid a throng of squabbling aristocrats, like a painting. "Then again, for your sanity alone perhaps not." At the shout of alarm, Hrotha's hand goes for the grip of her sword only to find it absent, fingers flexing on their own several times as he muscle memory endures the confusion. No tangible threat, just the din of angry, buzzing bees. What good would a sword be in that situation anyways? Okerra's urging is enough to convince her to leave the matter in the hands of the guards on duty.

"I would like to have known your wife. I have only met your daughter in passing at events not unlike this one, so I'd wager I don't know her at all. We all wear masks at these things, do we not? From your words, I have no doubt we would get on perfectly." As they enter the Emperor's Hall, Hrotha takes a drink from a nearby serving tray and swirls the contents with soft twists of her wrist. Surely the ceremonial portion of the night was looming over them but she has the advantage of Okerra's experience and doesn't want to lose that just yet. Or, perhaps, she's growing fond of his company.

"So then, who in this crowd presents the greatest obstacle to our goals?" She uses the glass to point out several faces in crowd. People she knows to be vocal in their disagreement. "Perhaps I'm presenting too broad a selection."

Gregorotto · July 3, 2023

Sometimes, a supernal sense is better than knowing what's going on.

Greyrose, along with Armen, duels with Bartelby and his odd brotherhood of noble brigands, who soon find themselves on the other end of Armen's wit and Greyrose's barbs. Bartelby laughs at his brother's boldness, shaking his head. "Well, never let it be said you're not a proper Lotheed, willing to lock horns with that boring bastard. Still, not the wisest course of action. I doubt my own blade would do much good against him in a fight mono-a-mono. Well done, brother." When complimented, Armen gives his own back, but with a twist: he challenges the men, and Bartelby, regarding their vote and "earning their keep," as Bartelby forced Armen to do by coming here. The smile never waivers from the elder Lotheed, his grin growing into a full smirk. "Oh do come off it, you can't be that bitter, and relying on that worm? You're resourceful, I'll give you that, but she's living off of Eutropia's dole, utterly worthless on her own." All the same, the other men begin to mumble something, influenced by his words and speaking to one another, when Greyrose interrupts: speaking in code that Armen is fortunately canny enough to pick up, the men all listen heartily, their chins rising as they exchange knowing looks to one another, and with Bartelby, who wiggles his eyebrows at them approvingly. "Clever one, this Greyrose. We'll have to keep an eye out for him, and you know, he's absolutely correct."

From the bobbing of heads and ways they react, the men with Bartelby's Brotherhood aren't entirely convinced, but they are making concessions: that's progress! More than Greyrose might have hoped given how backwards some of these tossers are.

Nearby, Lorelei creates a minor diversion by getting the Ulfen Guard members distracted, speaking in their own sing-songy tongue about shoes while she tries to peak inside: unfortunately, nothing of value can be seen, the angle just wrong, and a guard exits, shutting the door behind him and ignoring Lorelei entirely. Oh well; worth a shot.

Interrupted, Kalbio appears and fumbles his introduction. "Oh, I, uh, I don't expect I should be made anything more than an earl, at best, and that's optimistic!" When offered to lead on, he happily follows. "Sorry about the fiddle comment... I, uh, well, I don't know the difference. They look the same to me! And sound the same. Is there a difference?" They head onward, into the Senate Chamber, as things get chaotic behind them: and Greyrose is already on it. Sensing something perhaps supernaturally, he sees the events going down with Juvenal and the woman from a distance, and with clever thinking, gets guards in on it immediately, pointing out the woman's movements as she takes a line towards the Arcade of Triumphs, trying to make her way out. Greyrose directs the guards and they are quick upon her, not buoyed by the crowd: Juvenal makes his way inside, and Baron Okerra and Hrotha help direct traffic with his booming voice and both of their presences.

Once inside, Nicolaus responds to Hrotha in due course. "For my sanity I'd sooner be dead than voting in these chambers, but you sound like my wife. She saw my practicality as something that might make these halls something more tenable for the trouble our nation is in. She was a passionate woman, wiser than I am. And our daughter, well... takes after her mother, as it were. If you've met her, you know that. Smart as a whip and faster than a jackalope." He laughs. "Back home now, and for the better I'd think."

Armen and Juvenal, now in the Senate Chamber, find it fast filling: where once it was empty, now it is buzzing as the vote comes ever closer, and among the reasons is the presence of a post-bee hunt Eutropia, moving around from crowd to crowd, not everyone looking pleased about it. While Juvenal struggles to find something to do, because there's just so much, Armen has his hands full with the young soon to be elevated nobleman Kalbio, asking constant questions like a hungry child before a meal. He interrupts the younger man, however, upon seeing the crimson redeemer, Remilliard Kastner turns and his face brightens, a fake smile entering his wise face as he is introduced to Kalbio. He offers his hands to both men, and then answers earnestly. "No, no, your son was distasteful, I've heard, but well-deserved given the target: but your rendition of the national anthem was absolutely illuminated. No, you're not the cause. I've had an unfortunate run-in with the Trant girl, and she's proven a boisterous little ball of energy. Her mother is looking for her, now, and I imagine she'll be back down any moment. I just... if I may be so bold for a moment, cannot fathom anyone not voting for this resolution. I see no value in clinging to the past like a teddy bear. A teddy bear is as useful in a storm as a stone tied around your foot on a ship. If we don't grab the mastlines, we'll lose our mast entirely. And I, for one, will not be lost in the Eye of Abendego so tactlessly." He looks to both men, taller than both, and looks for a response. "What's your take? Neither of you are voting, given you're not able yet, Kalbio?"

Kalbio mutters something, and then says, "Well, I like the Princess."

A strong opinion indeed.

Separate from the humdrum of the Senate Floor, Lorelei has her eyes on one of her preordained targets, Lord Centimus. The harsh looking man, roughly her age but with lines of stress that make him look much older, regards her and does not react to her commentary on his chair, waiting for her to finish. "Yes, I designed it myself. Quite useful, it is. What's your training, an archivist from the purple words you've chosen? You're trying to get at my political opinion. Hm. From that pin, working for someone. Be honest: who sent you?"

This is a kind reception, though Lorelei might not realize how good she has it.

Hrotha asks who to look out for as she stands in the Emperor's Hall, when a voice booms in her head, and everyone else in the group's head. Martella Lotheed speaks.

I didn’t ask you just to do a job, nor look over your shoulders if the bee situation is any indication. I need a status update, and bear a warning. There’s a young woman here: Malphene Trant, the daughter of Senator Trant. She’s a belligerent, narcissistic ass, and a bully as well. If she’s here, it’s likely to intimidate one of more of the junior senators into backing her father. If one or more of you could keep an eye on her and... quietly intercede should she try, you'll do our cause a great bit of work. Someone let me know how everything is going: you'll have to come up here and make causal conversation but my birdies are raving at your showing thus far.

As she says this, Juvenal notices a harsh-looking but striking blond woman of broad shoulders and great height descend from above, calling over two other women and speaking harshly to them, giving them directions. Is that her?

Out of Character

Map Key:
A1-Arcade of Triumphs (T20) PCs Present Notable NPCsHigh Strategos, Maxillar Pythareus (T3)
Grand Duke Avernathus (T20)
Vicountess Octavia Nicodemius (T10)
Earl Calhadion Vernisant (T5)
Copernia Vau (T7)
A2 (T20) PCs Present Notable NPCs
A3-Emperor's Hall (T4) PCs PresentGreyrose
Hrotha Vinmark Notable NPCsLord Bartelby Lotheed (T8)
Baron Nicolaus Okerra (T10)
A4-Gallery (not pictured, above A5-7 but primarily 6) (T0) PCs Present NPCs PresentMartella Lotheed (T20)
A5-Imperial Archives (T0) PCs PresentLorelei NPCs PresentDuke Leonard Centimus (T0)
Duke Georgi Backus Talbot II (T0)
A6-Senate Floor (T0) PCs PresentArmen Lotheed
Juvenal NPCs PresentPrincess Eutropia (T20)
Lady Gloriana Morilla (T6)
Earl Gahez Varima (T4)
Kalbio of Breezy Creek (T15)
Baronet Duranis Cicato (T0)
Lady Zariyah Clement (T0)
Marquess Charlotte Deschamps (T0)
Lord Remilliard Kastner (T6)
Marquess Tanasha Starborne (T0)
Dame Malphene Trant (T0)
A7-Servant Area (T-20) PCs PresentAlexis NPCs PresentLandgrave Ogvai Jarlbjorn (T20)

Event Notes

Event: 4

Each Event has a Social Round, a 15-minute or so period where you can attempt to influence a room or a specific NPC, complete a mission, etc. Each time you influence things, you may attempt a check, whose DC I will not provide. Excess points past the threshold convert to threshold points, which help build influence in each room. Per 2e rules, if you go a certain threshold past the DC, you can potentially double your points. You are restricted to 3 rolls per post, and are not restricted by the number of posts you can make per Event.

You'll need to go through each room to find out what NPCs are in what room, or find Martella. You can roll whatever you want to discover who is where and why, though just being in a room, I will provide hints. For the sake of nobility, Armen, Juvenal, and Hrotha can add +3 to their rolls to identify who a person is.

Event 4 is focused on dissenters and finishing your given tasks.

If this is unclear, hit up the Discord, and likely there discuss things anyway.

Missions

Influence the vote in favor of Eutropia
Determine the loyalties of the following Senators: Duke Centimus, Duchess Pace
Stop Malphene Trant from influencing junior senators negatively
Counter the influence of opposition Senators

Alright, we're in Event 4! Two more social rounds, and we should be good. You have your targets, now tear into them.

Spektor · July 6, 2023

Lorelei Albrecht

Human Osirionologist Magus (1)

HP: 17/17 | AC: 17 | Fort: +6 Ref: +7 Will: +5 | Hero Points: 1 | Languages: Azlanti, Osiriani, Ancient Osiriani, Varisian

The reception Lorelei receives from Duke Centimus immediately assaults the smile on her face, causing it to fade slightly. She takes a long moment to decide how she is going to reply, all the while she holds the straining smile that makes her cheeks look a bit too dimpled and pudgy for her age. Finally, she exhales a breath through her nose and looks down at her pin. With a quick motion, she plucks it off and sets it on one of the bookshelves near her.

"Yes, Duke Centimus, I was sent to get your political opinion and discern which way you are leaning regarding the vote. However, It is clear to me that you are far too intelligent for honeyed words and lies about my past." She is certain to make the statement sound more like a disappointment than a compliment, as she got the feeling he was not a man who accepted compliments well. "Yes, I am an archivist of sorts. I focus specifically on relics and texts from Ancient Osirion. But I do not come to you today as an Archivist, nor do I come to you as a legislative nurse, checking your temperature in the current political climate." She gives a reserved and defeated smile.

Lorelei turns towards the shelves of books, not meeting the Duke's eye as she speaks further. Her hands idly move about the shelves, reorganizing any misplaced or slanted books in the collection. "I have been studying history for my entire life, Duke; multiple accounts of the same events from varying perspectives, all skewed towards the writer's agenda. Even amongst the enviable collection held within one of Taldan's oldest relics," she gestures around her at the building they currently resided in "Things are not exactly recorded properly. Even the historians who are supposed to be infallible and unswayed -- all of them have been urged to write in favor of the reigning empire. Their words are edited -- torn to shreds by those who would white wash our history of failures, so that we might never learn from our mistakes." She bites her lip and finally looks back to the seated Duke.

The meek librarian searches his face for a moment before continuing, "I do not wish to tell you which decision to make when the time is right, Duke Centimus. Not because I am a woman and you a man -- no -- but because I believe each person should have the right to choose. I, for one, think that the history of Taldan has been written by the same author for far too long. Nothing new has ever been gained from trying the same thing over and over again. No grand work of ingenuity has ever been accomplished by attempting to attach the same cog to the same crank every time." She looks back to the shelf of books and plucks the pin from its edge. "I could tell you that the Princess herself sent me to check in which direction you were leaning. I could tell you that I am supposed to ensure that you choose progress over tradition. But I'd much rather believe that we are both wise people who have seen their share of history and have had an interesting conversation on political perspective. I will not insult you by attempting to sway you. I will, however, happily explain why I believe progress to be the right choice here. What you do with that information is your own choice."

Lorelei affixes the pin to the lapel of her dress once more and regards the Duke with another pleasant smile. "For what it is worth, It was no mere idle compliment when I commented on your device. It truly is impressive. I did not choose artifice as a life path because my hands shake when I get nervous or excited." Her smile, once more, becomes defeated as she raises her hand to exemplify her meaning. The lithe, pale fingers are trembling slightly. "Imagine the damage I could do with hands like these." The librarian lets out a reserved chuckle.

OoC

Action 1 - I'm not really sure how to use three actions here, but I suppose I'll go with make an impression for one.

Action 2 - Next I will do a deception to imply that she was sent directly by the princess, which is kinda true but not really.

Action 3 - And then...I guess Performance?

Kavonde · July 6, 2023

"Sorry about the fiddle comment... I, uh, well, I don't know the difference. They look the same to me! And sound the same. Is there a difference?"

As they cross the threshold into the Senate Chamber, Armen considers this question deeply for a moment before, with a sigh, admitting, "No, there really isn't. I just... 'fiddle.' This is a complex tool which requires a lifetime of study and practice to master. It can create the sweetest of tones or the most sinister of stings. In the right hands, it can manipulate an audience's emotions like no other instrument. Calling it a 'fiddle' seems... I don't know. A bit disrespectful of it? One can fiddle with a violin, but it can do so much more."

Juvenal listens to Lord Kastner with growing approval. The man seems to be exactly what he appears: a good man with an open, forward-thinking mind. Certainly the sort of individual the Princess would want supporting her. Then again, it seems his support for her is already solid, so speaking at length with the man might not be the most valuable use of his time. Still... "I have... something of a reputation--perhaps a well-deserved one--as something of a nihilist. I worship Groetus, you see. Not out of any malice or eagerness to see the world end, I just... well, I believe I see the big picture, in a sense. All these schemes and ambitions we nobles play, well, none of them will ultimately amount to anything. So perhaps, instead of grasping for wealth and power, we should just... enjoy life, I suppose. And let others enjoy theirs." He shrugs. "But to enjoy life means to alleviate suffering. And I believe that Taldor is, has been, and will continue to be a place of injustice and suffering, growing worse and worse as we cling to old, outdated traditions and modes of thinking.

"But... Princess Eutropia, I believe, might alter Taldor's trajectory, might realign our nation to become one that, while still flawed, will at least be less so. A nation that, while she rules it, will be more just, more equitable, and set on a better course for the future. Ultimately, yes, the Mad Moon will break free its chains and end all things, but until that day comes, fewer people--at least in Taldor--may suffer unnecessarily. So, yes, I support her as well. This is actually why I approached you; I thought a man like you, of unquestionable character, lending your voice to the Princess' cause might serve as an excellent counterbalance to our old warhorse," he smirks, "of a High Strategos. Would you be willing to speak to a few others on her behalf?"

Whatever Lort Kastler's response, Armen thanks him gracefully and excuses himself. He eyes the rapidly-filling Senate chamber, catching a glimpse of Juvenal--good to see his charming compatriot hasn't found himself a dark corner in which to drink himself into oblivion--looking for another potential target to influence. That's when Martella's voice, much too loudly, booms in his head.

I didn’t ask you just to do a job, nor look over your shoulders if the bee situation is any indication. I need a status update, and bear a warning. There’s a young woman here: Malphene Trant, the daughter of Senator Trant. She’s a belligerent, narcissistic ass, and a bully as well. If she’s here, it’s likely to intimidate one of more of the junior senators into backing her father. If one or more of you could keep an eye on her and... quietly intercede should she try, you'll do our cause a great bit of work. Someone let me know how everything is going: you'll have to come up here and make causal conversation but my birdies are raving at your showing thus far.

Armen glances up to the balcony, where he knows his sister was standing not long ago. He makes eye contact with Juvenal and nods to indicate that he'll handle his sister's request. He makes his way up to the gallery and takes a moment to look around the area before spotting Martella and heading toward her.

"Dear sister," he says as he approaches, "your pins would be significantly more useful if we could use them to communicate back. The only one of us I could coordinate with was Juvenal; I won't be surprised if Hrotha, Lorelei, Greyrose and Alexis all come up here to make reports as well." He glances around, as if expecting one of his companions to come bounding in at any moment. "I think things are going well. I rather deeply embarrassed the High Strategos and I believe Greyrose and I have managed to sway our esteemed brother's brain trust. I've seen Hrotha bustling about, speaking with the Ulfens and Baron Okerra. Neither Juvenal nor Alexis seem to have caused any major scandals. I'm not sure about Lorelei, but she's one of the most intelligent people I know, so I'm sure she's fine."

He takes the time to fill Martella in on any additional details or activities he can think of. Once he's done, he asks, "I have to say, I've actually found this work mostly tolerable so far. But please don't make a habit of assigning me these kinds of tasks. I'm essentially just alternating between impressions of Juvenal and Hrotha. As long as I can keep that up, I'll be fine, but... it's all a lie." He sighs. "Now, this Trant woman. If I recall, she's at least as terrifying as the High Strategos. I believe I've handled my share of angry brutes who could cleave me in half for the day, but perhaps you could send Hrotha, and I'll back her up?"

OOC

Action 1) Keep Making an Impression on Lord Kastler.

Action 2) Report in to Martella.

Action 3) Prepare to Aid Hrotha when/if she confronts Lady Trant, probably with either a Diplomacy, Deception, or Performance roll to sort of sell any barbs she delivers as absolutely devastating. All three of those are at a +7, so I'll just do one roll.

DoNotFearToTread · July 7, 2023

Hrotha Vinmark

HP: 19/19 | AC: 15 (18 arm/20 shl) | Fort: +6 Ref: +5 Will: +5 | H-Points: 1 | Languages: Common, Orc, Celestial

Current Conditions: None

Active Abilities: None

You Want an Oafish Half-Breed?!

"You both share the burden of grief. I am certain that your daughter will do well for herself. You give her a fine example, even if she doesn't see that at present." Hrotha feels the similarities immediately as Okerra makes mention of his daughter. No doubt they've had the same arguments she and her father have. No doubt she has similar longings to be in charge of her own destiny. No doubt, as well, that she has given the Baron as many headaches as Hrotha has given her own father. She feels for him, raising a headstrong girl on his own, but she feels moreso for the girl who lost her mother and has to figure out the world without a maternal voice. The sudden blare of a voice in her head causes her eyes to narrow as she scans the room for Martella's face, her brain failing to connect the magic of the communication to a lack of Martella's immediate presence at first.

"Apologies, Baron. Duty calls once again. Thank you for the conversation. My evening has been greatly improved by it." As she steps away into the crowd, she spares a glance back in the man's direction. Taldor has good people, she knows that to be true, but it is not often that she has opportunity to mingle with them. Perhaps there is value to this senatorial aide situation, after all. Her movements through the crowd are deliberate as she searches for Trask. Clearly the others might be better suited to bandy words about and lessen the woman's threat, but Hrotha has something else in mind and no intention of letting the opportunity pass. Is it fortune that brings her across Armen in her search, or is it simply that he was seeking her out? Regardless, the timing is perfect. She takes up a glass of dark wine and drapes a cloth over her arm, motioning for Armen to fall in step as she makes her way toward Malphene.

"Okay." Her voice is low as she leans in to brush a bit of imaginary dust from Armen's forearm. "Bump me." It has to be timed right, just as Malphene draws near. A stumble that spills the contents of the glass onto the woman's dress, one that will hopefully seem to outside observers to be an accident. She tries to make the spill as obvious on the outfit as possible as she lets the glass fall from her hands.

"Oh no! Your dress! How terrible. It must be that half-breed clumsiness you noted earlier. Let me help." She uses the cloth to dab at the stain on Malphene's outfit, pushing through any objection and aiming to get a finger or thumb under a button or into a clasp and rip the fabric with the motion of her cleaning efforts. It is unlikely that she can pull the wool over Trask's eyes here, given their prior interaction, but so long as she can make any observers believe it is ineptitude and not deliberate the ploy will serve its purpose. A complete wardrobe failure might do well to get Trant out of the picture for a moment, and if she moves off to be alone to clean it up that will give Hrotha the opening she needs to put the fear in her.

OOC Details

My aim here is use deception to try and make the spill and subsequent tear seem accidental to outside observers. Hopefully she can lean on the average person's belief in the oafishness of half-breeds. Hrotha would like to get Trant alone and hopes this might lead to that, as I have Quick Coercion and would love to make use of it by threatening her out of earshot of the rest of the crowd but I don't want to jump too far ahead by assuming any of that works.

And she blew it. Big time. Bummer. So I'll leave that in your court, G.

Edited July 7, 2023 by DoNotFearToTread (see edit history)

BlackHat · July 9, 2023

Once the guards descend on the servant who agitated the bees, Greyrose can turn his attention to other matters - such as Martella's reminder to check in. Armen passes Greyrose on his way out of Martella's audience, on his way to Hrotha. Greyrose exchanges a nod but otherwise does not engage his co-conspirator, nor is he dissuaded from spending the next few minutes informing their Patron of a number of small details which her other spies might have overlooked. Many of his observations seem irrelevant, or only tangentially related to the upcoming vote, but he does highlight a couple of interesting connections. After concluding his report, he excuses himself to further assist the others.

OOC

Action 1: Let's call it a Perception to represent the details that Greyrose recalls to inform Martella about.
Action 2: I guess maybe a Perception roll to locate the Duchess.
Action 3: Society to Recall Knowledge about Duchess Pace

Gregorotto · July 19, 2023

The call comes in: report to Martella and update her on progress. And so, many decide to head that way.

Baron Okerra takes a drink of his wine, sighing. "One hopes so. My wife was the steady captain on this unsteady course. I'm just a sailor looking for a twain mark." And then Hrotha must go: he nods, and sighs again. "Looks like I have to uphold my end of the bargain. May our paths cross again, miss. Now, I have to pretend I'm a petty politician and make a fuss." Another swig of wine for courage, and Okerra is off as Hrotha is. Nearby, Armen is busy brushing shoulders with the crimson champion of Ragathiel, feathers as proud as the man himself. His smile is genuine as he listens to the talk of Groetus, though it droops a bit at the mention of honest nihilism and the long run: still, it is a convincing oration in his favor, and particularly in favor of Eutropia.

"You're heart-felt, friend, and I appreciate that. I do not particularly care for the fated dilemma of how the multiverse will end, when Groetus at last takes Pharasma and ends all that is to create something... new yet old. But I think we are largely in agreement about minimizing suffering and making things better while we still can. Vengeance is the way of Ragathiel, but not me. Vengeance is for when justice fails, and I aim to make things just, good, and kind while they can. I think, in our way, we agree on the minutiae even if we disagree largely on fate and what to do in the face of it. A conversation for another time: but rest assured, friend, I am absolutely doing everything within my favor to turn the vote in favor of the Princess. How can I not? If I can face down a chimera in full charge, I can face down senators on these floors." And then the two part, the impression made and lasting, too.

As Hrotha, Armen, and Greyrose march off to their respective plans, one among the group does not heed the call: Lorelei. She has a different quarry, and unfortunately, she is about to lose him.

He listens, hands in his lap, his face almost in a pout at Lorelei explains the importance of the vote, her background, and all throughout, it is the simple act of omission that will make her pay. Something in the way she phrases this, says that, compliments this, looks at that: it's off-putting, and slowly, the man turns a different shade of beet red.

"Are you quite finished? I know you were sent, I said as much. I asked who. I did not ask for your political treatise, I did not ask you to explain to me the politics of gender and sex in the larger scheme of Taldane society, nor did I ask a historian to lecture me on the finer points of such a design and the ethical feel-goodness of my being able to control my life. I am well aware of all of that, and did not need you to explain that to me. Would you like to know my opinion? My opinion on this matter is: I will vote as my conscience dictates, and you will have to wait to find out what that opinion is, and whoever your handler is need get a better grip around your collar. Goodbye, miss. Next time you attempt to lecture something, perhaps it should be a mummified student of yours?" With that, Duke Centimus rolls off, headed for the Senate Floor in a rush.

That backfired spectacularly.

As Armen prepares to ascend, he offers himself as a distraction to Malphene Trant, glaring him down in such a way that, the wine-wielding noble scion does not notice Hrotha as she approaches, and the knock into her quickly leads to gasps of indignation and outrage rage in the case of Malphene Trant, the glass of wine going everywhere and her own falling to the ground, shattering and causing a deafening silence as all eyes turn to them. Her glare on Hrotha is that of a warrior, and a warrior out for blood. "You green heathen bitch! Do you really think such a naked attempt to distract me is going to work?! If you touch me again I'm going to break you like a twig, you illegitimate green stain." She growls, looking at her two friends. "You: find him. You, I need your dress." The trio march towards the Emperor's Hall, Malphene looking over her shoulder once more at Hrotha.

Greyrose and Armen arrive at nearly the same time, though Armen is closer by far. Near Greyrose is a group of children, thirteen in total, surrounding a small woman, likely a halfling or gnome, painted like a clown doing tricks for the little ones, some parents and grandparents or guardians looking on with mild interest at the honestly quite good show. Martella Lotheed sits alone, reading a small book with no words on the cover or the spine. As Armen comes to her, she does not look up.

She listens, before looking up with a grin. "Oh, but brother, I didn't make these pins. It's just a simple tool that's always been this way, enchanted and used for centuries. Rather admirable. So Bartelby is here... more's the pity, but good on Greyrose. I've heard quite a bit about your song already and word has reached me that there was a particularly moving national anthem as well, your doing too. It sounds as, by your reckoning, we're doing quite well, but I don't think we've seen the other side's hand yet, whether they're organized or not. Malphene Trant is only the beginning. It may take Hrotha and at least one or two of you to deal with her."

When Armen is done, Greyrose does his own report, but as he does so, he spies her: the gaudy, tacky woman is otherwise unremarkable, with spectacles that hang from her ears rather than sit, with hair held by pearls into a stylish bun that looks rather like a fox's untidy tail. Her dress is covered in little bows, and it is not a pleasant assortment but it is a bold, fashionable one. She speaks behind a fan to a group of men and women, making a joke in the direction of Martella, who pretends not to notice. "Countess Abrielle Pace. You've already seen her. Find out what she's doing, and if necessary, intimidate her. We doubt her sincerity, and it could hurt the integrity of our cause."

And so Greyrose does, shadowing her as Countess Pace heads down the stairs into the Senate, recalling a bit about her. She is a climber, always looking for power: a former classmate of the Princess and thus Martella as well, she's known for being as changeable as the wind on opinions if it suits her in a situation.

But he can't hear her to know how the wind is blowing today.

Out of Character

Map Key:
A1-Arcade of Triumphs (T20) PCs Present Notable NPCs
A2 (T20) PCs Present Notable NPCs
A3-Emperor's Hall (T4) PCs Present Notable NPCs
A4-Gallery (not pictured, above A5-7 but primarily 6) (T0) PCs PresentArmen Lotheed
Greyrose* NPCs Present
A5-Imperial Archives (T0) PCs PresentLorelei NPCs PresentDuke Georgi Backus Talbot II (T0)
A6-Senate Floor (T0) PCs PresentHrotha Vinmark
Juvenal NPCs Present
A7-Servant Area (T-20) PCs PresentAlexis NPCs PresentLandgrave Ogvai Jarlbjorn (T20)

Event Notes

Event: 4

Each Event has a Social Round, a 15-minute or so period where you can attempt to influence a room or a specific NPC, complete a mission, etc. Each time you influence things, you may attempt a check, whose DC I will not provide. Excess points past the threshold convert to threshold points, which help build influence in each room. Per 2e rules, if you go a certain threshold past the DC, you can potentially double your points. You are restricted to 3 rolls per post, and are not restricted by the number of posts you can make per Event.

You'll need to go through each room to find out what NPCs are in what room, or find Martella. You can roll whatever you want to discover who is where and why, though just being in a room, I will provide hints. For the sake of nobility, Armen, Juvenal, and Hrotha can add +3 to their rolls to identify who a person is.

Event 4 is focused on dissenters and finishing your given tasks.

If this is unclear, hit up the Discord, and likely there discuss things anyway.

Missions

Influence the vote in favor of Eutropia
Determine the loyalties of the following Senators: Duke Centimus, Countess Pace
Stop Malphene Trant from influencing junior senators negatively
Counter the influence of opposition Senators

One more social round for Event 4, and we'll jump into Event 5 and get ever closer to the vote at the end of Event 6.

Juvenal may take twice as many actions as everyone else given he did not post this round.

Edited July 19, 2023 by Gregorotto (see edit history)

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Chapter 1: All the King's Men

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