Nef's Sandbox Pathfinder Funtime Extravaganza: The Search for a Better Name

[Nefarion Xid]

Baylor's Court
Pix and Dannai

The Frostmeet is a peculiarity unique to the people of Reum. All the greybeards gather to examine rose cuttings, pour over the previous year's almanac, sniff at the wind and have the first drink of the winter beer. Rather than trusting the silly old lunar calendar of the Aerrans, Reumans trust the wisdom of their elders to decide when winter's is nearing its end. And that's always a cause for celebration here in the North. Of course, while the Frostmeet isn't foolproof, it's always proven more reliable than trusting in prophetic rodents.

"... from which we may conclude that this shall be the most excellent year for sweet onions. On the next misty afternoon, we must begin sewing. Unless, of course, it was misty since the previous morning, in which case, as you well know..."

"Thank you, Master Diggory. Inform the town and make your preparations. Just like every year." Baylor gave a curt nod towards the sidelines, politely, but firmly indicating to the doddering Master of Seeds that it was time to move along to other matters. Diggory clutched as his too-long brown robes and shuffled off to find a page to corner and bore with the details of humidity.

The Duke snapped his head from side to side, audibly cracking his sore neck to the visible annoyance of the cringing Prince Trenton. The gold coronet sat slightly lopsided on his brow as he gripped the arms of his enormous oak throne and made himself comfortable for what promised to be a long day of petitioners and council business.

(Presented below are the matters of the day, presented in brief. Let me know what you want to hear more about and we'll jump to that scene)

Mining Wrongs and Kobold Rights - A company of dwarves have arrived this week in Highcrown. They've petitioned the Duke for an audience and have arrived to discuss the possible terms of claiming an abandoned silver mine north of the town. The mine has gone unworked for the last three decades. Initially abandoned when Reum was ravaged by plague, the mine has since been home to a kobold tribe. The kobolds have, by most accounts, been good neighbors -- they don't make trouble and they've left the farmers alone apart from the occasional report of stolen beets.

Winter's Bane, Autumn's Beer - The imminent end of the worst part of winter means it's time to make preparations for the Festival of Winter's Bane, celebrating Lucan's victory and final battle over a great frost titan. The festival is seen as an important mart of the town's morale. Someone will be needed to ensure the common folk have a good time, but the Duke's coffers don't suffer too greatly. Edgard, the Duke's son, has requested a jousting tournament. Baylor has offered a number of excuses (that the realm cannot spare the expense, that there wouldn't be a good showing from the unproven cavaliers...); many guess that he's only being protective and doesn't want to see his boy hurt.

The Red Spot - Two years ago, "Dashing" Drake, a pirate of some repute, retired from the high seas and, with the help of his cutthroat crew (the Crimson Corsairs), carved out a tiny kingdom for himself along the coast, northwest of Highcrown. The Duke grows increasingly weary of the well entrenched brigands so close to his realm, who have so far refused any diplomatic overtures. Drake's ambition cannot be underestimated, nor the skill of his veteran soldiers. While Baylor's men are split between the green and the middle aged, Drake's host is a seasoned bunch of murderers, well equipped from years of plunder. Someone is needed to spy on the Crimson Corsairs and account for their current numbers and siege weaponry.

(Note: The Duke is properly addressed as "His Grace"
Descriptions of Dwarves and Kobolds are coming shortly, but it's pretty much vanilla Pathfinder)

Elsewhere...
Zimno

Zimno's toes were the first thing to come back to life. He'd spent some hours working the big ones around in little circles inside his boots as he wondered where the rest of his body was and when it would get some feeling back. His hearing returned next, but it only reported muffled voices, the sound of wind and waves, and somewhat distant footfalls on a wooden floor. By the time his eyelids would cooperate and some measure of strength had returned to his limbs the sounds from the outside world had died away. He was somewhere dark (and thankfully not blind) he determined. A few rays of moonlight filtered in from the wooden slats just over his head. It was about this time he realize that he was in a crate... and buried in coarsely ground corn. There were far worse things to be buried in, he thought. Though, disconcertingly, he couldn't quite recall the exact circumstances that had lead to his current predicament, or how long he'd been here. In fact, the last several months were a blur. Nothing came to him spare the taste of rum, the scent of an opium pipe and dark haired women.

After some wiggling around, he laid hands on his bow and the rest of his gear, all secured somewhere in the cornmeal.

[Nefarion Xid]

Baylor's Court
Pix and Dannai
The Red Spot

Three ranks of low-backed padded chairs form a half circle facing the throne, with an aisle down the center. All the usual attendees are here today, everyone with an ounce of sway or respect in Highcrown. The Duchess sits to the left of her husband and his son, Edgard, to his right, all atop three stone steps with a carpet draped before them, a more decorative depiction of the Bahrhalle banner. Long time courtiers remembered that Baylor's previous wife had not been invited to council meetings or to hear petitioners. The delicate blonde politely perched before the lords of Highcrown was a rather recent addition.

"Your Grace," began Captain Stanton before he'd had a chance to clear his throat. "I suggest we begin with the most pressing matter? Drake and his... pirates", Stanton sneered.

Reginald Stanton had the look of a man who would rather still be at war than keeping the peace. He kept his dirty blond hair loose and long, and seldom washed it. The high collared brown leather coat he wore was older than the Duke's son. Much like Stanton himself, the years of wear and tear only gave it more charm.

Baylor nodded, giving Reg the floor.

"Our scouts tell us that the corsairs have begun construction on two watcher towers on the southeastern edge of their territory. One close to the coast, the other twenty five miles inland along the old sea road. Since they've begun construction, we've had trouble getting close enough to keep tabs on their fortress. If Drake has found the money and manpower to build stone towers, I dread to think of what else he might be cooking up out of our sight. Foremost, we need someone to have a peek inside his compound. The more information they can dig up, the better. Stalling the completion of the watchtowers would be a bonus -- without implicating our involvement, of course."

[Jade_Tarem]

Pix

The words of the ancient comedy sprang to mind, "That's for those of you who have absolutely no interest in pirates." It was, to be certain, a tall order. If Dashing Drake had lived to retirement age, then he hadn't done so by being incautious. Most forms of, "Hello, I was impressed by your ability to cut off Highcrown's intelligence gathering efforts, would you let me in?" would be met with rejection or violence.

The magus could likely think of a good sabotage plan, but she'd never be able to get inside. Baylor was unlikely to tap her for the task. They needed a showboat, a sweet-talker, a liar of the highest degree... which was fine, as Pix had little desire to go play pirate anyway. Edgard might still have piracy confused with high seas adventure, but Pix knew it was mostly hard work, harder bread, and terrible hygiene.

Then she remembered who her other employer was.

[hi-mi-tsu]

Dannai

"Well, that sounds interesting." The court bard twisted a strand of hair around her finger, idly. "Playing music is all well and good, but it's been a long while since I've had the chance to really be...diplomatic." A sidelong glance at Stanton, a faint smile - diplomacy was likely not what the captain had in mind.

In honesty, being the court handler, while lucrative, grew a bit boring. Adventure sounded fun! Convincing pirates that she was on their side, getting a peek inside their compound, tricking them into telling her all their secrets...

"Of course, I'm not a fighter. I'd need some help. So Pix would need to come with me." The bard glanced at the magus. "You will come with me, won't you? It wouldn't be any fun at all, if you didn't."

[Jade_Tarem]

Pix

"Ahhh... if I can be spared from my duties here." Pix scratched the back of her head and smiled, pinned. Dannai would convince her one way or another. Only Baylor could save her now.

[Nefarion Xid]

Baylor's Court
Pix and Dannai
The Red Spot

The Duke shifted uncomfortably in his throne before leaning forward and stroking his trim beard. "I don't doubt your capabilities, Lady Dannai. But these are black-hearted men. They may may not give you the chance for... creative negotiations."

"His Grace means to say that pirates likely aren't interested in the way you talk, my Lady," Stanton said with a grim smile. "Thieves and worse. No telling how long it's been since they've seen a pretty face."

"Nonsense," chirped the Duchess, "That's why she's taking Pix -- one of the greatest warriors in the realm. Come to think of it, how long has it been since you've sparred with her, Lord Captain? Oh, sweet Dannai will be quite well looked after."

Duchess Ara is a sylphish, but curvy woman of nineteen years. She's almost always dressed in green as it matches her dazzling eyes. Today, her grace wears an emerald dress with an ermine shawl. She wears her long, nearly platinum blonde hair loose, spare for a few pins keeping her gold coronet in place.

[Jade_Tarem]

Pix

Hope tossed to the winds, Pix began planning how she and Dannai would survive, all while turning an interesting pinkish shade at the praise of the duchess. While she recognized the flattery, and privately suspected that he duchess might just be trying to let Dannai get herself killed, she wouldn't back down from the challenge. "I assume we are to be given some time to prepare? One does not simply walk into Cape Corsair... there is an odor there that does not sleep. Besides, they are likely to be suspicious of a pair of willing volunteers so soon after they've successfully defeated the usual reconnaissance. We'll need time, and a method, to establish ourselves as proper bandits."

[Nefarion Xid]

Baylor reclined, an almost sure sign he was acquiescing.

"Of course, of course. You take a week, at least. Let me know when you've formulated a plan, and if you need any resources or additional manpower."

It occurs to Dannai that it would be prudent to ask about town for information on Drake and his crew. In a town of over four thousand, someone must know something about the notorious sea raiders.

[hi-mi-tsu]

Dannai

The bard glanced at the Duchess. Such enthusiastic support was a bit unnerving, even from one as young as Baylor's new wife. And then, of course, there was Stanton. As though she were some sort of idiot baby bird, newly-fledged from the nest!

As though she didn't know exactly what it was men wanted.

"A week is most generous. Thank you, your Grace." Her smile turned on the Captain, syrupy-sweet. "I'm sure with that much time, I'll be able to figure something out that won't force me into indulgence of man's basest instinct. Though, of course, if that's what I have to do to get the intel...there's a reason you don't send other men to this sort of thing, when a woman would be so much more effective. But I'm sure you trust my abilities, Captain, don't you? Of course you do."

(Roll to make sure Stanton reacts favorably to me even though I'm being mean! [roll0])

Dannai looped an arm companionably around Pix's shoulders. "Come, friend. Let's you and I go see what people know, shall we?"

(Roll for intelligence gathering! [roll1])

[Nefarion Xid]

The Red Spot

Captain Stanton's cheeks turned red -- perhaps an affect of his alcoholism. "Of course, Lady Dannai. I've no doubt you'll be successful. Do take care of yourself." He returned to his seat to politely attend the next matter.

Baylor gave a nod towards the door guards, indicating he would see the first petitioners.

(Himi has been supplied with the information about the pirates that Dannai gathers later that afternoon)

Mining Wrongs

Into the throne room walked three dwarves. The first could have passed for human, so tall and fair for one of his kind. Perhaps he would have if not for his companions and his distinctly dwarven jewelry. He wore his dusky blond hair loose and his beard was short, spare a long patch on the chin which curved towards his chest. An enormous ruby hung on a gold chain about his neck and he was dressed in a rich looking fur cloak and brassy dwarven mail and rune-etched brown leather. His two followers were older by a decade or more. They were clad in similar armor, likely made by the same craftsman. One carried their clan's banner -- a brass seven-pointed star on a white field. The other brought an armful of books which he laid on the steps at Baylor's feet.

"Your Grace, we bring a gift of Aerran writings, carried by our forefathers in their flight from our ancestral lands," said the leader.

"Da, they belong in your library, more than anyone's," added the second.

The Duke beamed. He was passionate about all things Aerran. Galenus rose from his chair and went to collect the three tomes. "Principia Mathematica by Caius Atlius ... volumes two through four," Galenus said no more, but did stare down his aquiline nose at the dwarf before whisking off to the library.

Formalities followed. The tall dwarf introduced himself as Nadez and his kinsmen Akim and Oleg. The banner had been that of Nadez's father's mercenary company. As the company had long since disbanded, Nadez had taken it up to rally dwarves from this part of the world to form a new clan. Dwarves had fared better than men, immediately after the fall of Aerras, but soon joined in their suffering when monsters bred unchecked and sought out new lairs. Now there wasn't a great dwarven hold for a thousand miles around and most of their kind made their living as soldiers of fortune, artisans and moneylenders.

"The mine in question lies some thirty miles northeast, along the river. I have with me twenty three dwarves, many experienced fighters from my father's time. We propose that we clear the mine of the kobold squatters and build our hold there. Name me Count and silver will once again flow down the river to Highcrown! We will hold the east against your enemies. As for the silver, we generously offer... fifteen percent of all we mine, for as long as I hold the mountain."

[Jade_Tarem]

Pix

The tutor scratched idly as she considered the dwarf's proposal. It was a good deal... on paper, anyway. One up-front expenditure for Duke Baylor would lead to a source of revenue, which meant that it would theoretically pay for itself and eventually produce a profit. In practice, though, any number of things could go wrong. The kobolds might prove to be less tractable than expected. The mine might run dry before the point of profit. The kobolds, or anyone else, could come back and require further time, money, effort, and lives from the Duke. All of that was just what Pix could think of off the top of her head.

Since Baylor's court ran on considerably less ceremony than some, Pix spoke up. "Have you tried negotiating with the kobolds instead? They are not too primitive to understand such arrangements, and I believe they speak... Draconic, is it? That would save you men, time, and possible future harassment." That would cut Baylor off from free silver, but that silver would be flowing downriver and through Highcrown anyway. Just getting to tax it would mean that the Duke could start to benefit immediately and keep doing so for as long as the mine held out, all without having to spend anything. "If you lack a translator, I can fill in."

[hi-mi-tsu]

Dannai

"I must confess, I agree with Pix. Shocking, I know." The bard grinned at her friend. "But the kobolds have been good enough neighbors, for kobolds, and I see no reason why there should be violence when it is not necessary. It hardly ever fully solves problems...only puts patches that can then explode into much bigger issues."

Dannai glanced at the Duke, then the leader of the dwarfs. "Besides, it's unknown what else may be in the mine with the kobolds. And it would be such a shame to lose such prides of the dwarven race to poor planning."

(OOC: roll to be a charming person aw yeah with my diplomacy skillz and pants-charming abilities [roll0])

[Nefarion Xid]

Mining Wrongs

The dwarven standard bearer bristles at the notion of their company being defeated. Nadez seems to either be amused at the suggestion of 'diplomacy' or trying hard to imagine Dannai without her clothes.

"Negotiate? Oh, perhaps. They're not above reason. But, perhaps, you'll be negotiating on their terms in a decade. Kobolds are a fecund race, my noblemen and ladies. A female can start breeding after eight winters and they can produce two or three hatchlings a year." Nadez thumbed at his ruby while he spoke. "Oh, they keep to themselves now. But what will happen when their tunnels are crowded and there's not enough food? They'll be bold enough with numbers on their side; they won't just be stealing turnips..."

[Jade_Tarem]

Pix

Pix rubbed at her temple with one hand. "Then make sure the deal includes a way for them to safely expand or migrate before reaching that point. I didn't say that it would be simple or worked out in an afternoon, but the militant solution has to be executed perfectly - that is to say, the overwhelming majority of the kobolds must be slaughtered - or else in ten years you wind up with the same problem, only now the kobolds are angry and have been put in a position to make deals with the fey... and establish a new den that we don't already know the location of."