A Misdirection of Magicians (IC)

[Erelamar]

(OOC Thread Link (https://forums.giantitp.com/showthread.php?631902-A-Misdirection-of-Magicians-(OOC)))


The Fraal March Up Close

https://i.ibb.co/0h1Xcvk/Fraal-Marches-Copy.jpg

Due to its remoteness, you each have had a long journey through the Sandrinel Alliance into its furthest hinterlands. Each day the looming Titanspire Mountains grew larger until now they dwarf the smaller ranges of the Fraal Marches. You stand at the foot of the great skywalk of Allsatalos which skips from misty peak to misty peak and terminates at the gates of the mighty elven castle.

There were four principal paths you could have taken to reach this distant locale:
The High Road through the mountain passes, with trails alongside dizzying drops and bridges suspended hundreds of feet in the sky.
The Waterway, where you rode the merchant barges through a great network of steep-walled canyons, only disembarking some few miles back at the last port on the map.
The Low Road through the mining valleys where humans and elves delve into the earth in lead-lined suits, ever wary of a deep dwarf raid.
Or perhaps you have just landed after a many days flight with Great Eagle Transport, an exclusive company run from the capital of Sandrine employing trained giant birds as mounts; though prohibitively expensive, it is the fastest way to travel. And perhaps a little windburnt, the avian has deposited you safely and is already shrinking into the distance on its way home.

And to your surprise, upon this very day of your arrival, you run into faces at least passingly familiar. You know them to be wizards, and you can guess that banquets are likely not their only reason to be in attendance.

Each of you took a different one of the routes mentioned above. It's first come first serve, so be mindful of whatever someone posted before you. Whatever you choose, it is assumed your travel expenses have already been covered.

[Ripptor]

http://i.vgy.me/waS64S.png (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449194)

I'm just glad we're back on the ground. A mental gripe whispers in Megamax's head as she approaches the wizard's congregation.

Oh, hush. If we'd fallen, you would just popped from my pocket post-landing, anyway. Megamax smiles to herself.

And what a joyous bubble I'd be, a lizard and his meaty splat... I'd have to scrub the guts off your jewels just to get them shiny again. Baubie retorts, his head bobbing out the side of her corset. His dimensional pocket unsealed, the fire lizard takes in his surroundings after holing up for the entirety of the Giant Eagle crossing. For her part, Megamax enjoyed the view and the mountains, soaking it in through her eyepatch despite the wind.

What delighted her far more however, was slipping her tail in Sandrine... The capital city is a long way from the Titanspires, and haggling the swiftest passage out gives her a wide headstart on the Red Coven's acquisitions team. While they'll figure out her destination eventually, even Mother would balk at purchasing Eagle passage for the entire outfit. Meagan herself had to barter everything she had "collected" on her path there, leverage her local connection at the wizard's library for same-day transport, and still sweet talk the stablemaster into the distant journey.

Pulling her hair back into place beneath her circlet, Meagan's stone cloak flaps in the wind as she approaches the base of the Skywalk. Smiling at the many faces of the crowd she didn't recognize, suddenly there were two faces in particular that caught her attention... Gripping her amethyst buckler, she slowly makes her way through the greater banquet crowd towards the other Tracery seekers she remembers.

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

It had been an invigorating few days' travel along the low road, with an opportunity to see the new works in some of the mines, and to seek out possible new sources for some of the more unusual gems that her research involved. Tourmalines had proven especially troublesome to find in any quantity, and a promising thread had opened up in Vallenden. A rumour related to an old elven cache in Xellias had turned out to be a complete fabrication, though, much to her frustration. At least she'd managed to pick up a small anvil, cheap, and added it to her collection of oddities.

At least it had been a comfortable trip. In preparation for this journey, Clytemnestra had cajoled her husband, Vimilion, into sharing the Phantom Steed spell, and she was utterly delighted by this new form of travel. The smooth, rapid movement was a marked contrast to the eternal jouncing of horseback or the vertiginous listing of sea vessels.

It was hard not to be impressed by the location of Alsatalos, and the view from the Skywalk. She had paused, at the foot of the walk, to refresh her clothes and clean herself after a long morning on the road, and was glad she had done so. For she watched a giant eagle streak away, apparently having deposited an important and august guest at the foot of the skyway ahead of her. As she quickly overtook the figure on her steed, Clytemnestra noted devil-woman talking to an overweight baby dragon. Fascinating. Clearly also guests for the wedding, and probably bride side, given Emalia's eclectic tastes in friends. Well, best to make acquaintance.

Clytemnestra waited until her steed was about 30 feet behind Megamax when she called out a greeting.

"Good afternoon!"

The elf woman pulled up alongside the pair, touching two fingers to her temple in greeting.

"Clytemnestra Dekatos, at your service."

She glanced around at the vista of the skywalk.

"Extraordinary, is it not?"


A tall and imposing looking elven woman is dressed impeccably in a stylish brocade jacket and woolen breeches. Her lovely face is marked by a dozen scars, the puckered and ivory marks standing out against her tanned skin. The woman's loose hair is grey-white and falls to the small of her back. The woman carries a slender polished staff, and when she moves it becomes clear that it provides stability to her tottering walk, as well as a sense of style.
Clytemnestra 'Nessie" Dekatos (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449808)
Female LN Grey Elf Beguiler1/Conjurer4/Ultimate Magus1, Level 6, Init 4, HP 25/25, Speed 15
AC 14, Touch 10, Flat-footed 14, Fort 2, Ref 1, Will 9, Base Attack Bonus 2, Power Points 33/34
Sling +2 (1d4+1, x2)
Quarterstaff +3 (1d6+1, x2)
Mage Armour (+4 Armor)
Abilities Str 12, Dex 11, Con 13, Int 22, Wis 12, Cha 14
Condition Mage Armour

[D&DPrinceTandem]

https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRNXfstiUIQ6QwkvS1E_w62IBTIvfilo iSHGjvxOMTgapxkvE9XegFTi52TfOiSHVlySBg&usqp=CAU
https://www.esperia-rp.net/wiki/images/9/9b/BardeBaltasar.jpg
Kotoba sat upon the bow of a relatively large, leaning his acing back against the inner wall. He had taken his back and turned it in reverse, as Trinity had awoken not an hour earlier. There ritual storytelling had drawn a small and young crowd, consisting of a halfling, twin half-elves, and a half-orc, all children, and all eagerly in sway of there tale being told. The tale of the day was a story of two lovers, forbidden from one another, a war divides there people...something something, through the mountain.. something something, secret tunnel.
There story finishes with a radiance of golden silver light emanating from the bag the ship pulls to a stop and the crowds of folk begin to exit the barge. Kotoba spends waits a moment before getting off, in the mean time he takes his boots of and casts a simple prestidigitation to clean them and continues to let it clean the rest of his clothes as well as Trinity's. He massages his feet, which had began to ache again after finally gettin a rest from his land-bound travels and not wanting to embark agains so soon.
"So Koto, now we are but a few bends from Elven Castle, oh but there is such great stories to be heard here to sure! I wonder what interesting folk will be here so too..." Trinity drones on. Kotoba smiles at this, not at her curiosity, but at her strength, he knows the curse is eating at her still but even with it she is capable of expressing joy still. He ruffles her hair which stops her mid sentence, she smiles back. "Let us be on our way little one, we wouldn't want to miss out on another great story" he croaks through his grin. She dips back into the bag and he lifts it upon his back, it seems to grow heavier by the day but that matters not to Kotoba. The wooden from fits snuggle against his back and he secures the strap around his waist to remove stress from his shoulders. As he leaves this ship Trinity pops her head out again, Kotoba half turns his head back and says "Why don't you read me a story while I walk."

As the Canyons sinks below the horizon and the mountains grow near Kotoba embraces the essence of the grand tale teller, he watches as carriage after carriage pass by. He is in no hurry, with Trinity's voice and the sheer grandiosity of the landscape around him he almost forgets why he is even there in the first place.

As they approach the Skywalk the sudden realization of his foreign nature sets in, the ritualistic and traditional grabs of the south lands are...less then appealing by comparison to the eloquent and regal colors common of the wizards of these northern lands. He lowers his hood reflexively, in an attempt as to not be seen as secretive. Familiar faces begin forming in the crows, seeking the intellectual treasures of the land for sure. He cautiously approaches two in particular.
Trinity, oblivious to her situation and surprise by the rare appearance of Koto's hair, long lock-ful and brown, she decides to make good use of the opportunity and begins to braid his hair. Only breaking from it to render there homeland greeting, placing their right hand atop their sternum, returning to her newfound activity with a whistle.

[Erelamar]

As you three magicians are drawn toward one another, you each begin to notice something odd. Of all the faces in the crowd, yours are the only ones you recognize. Each of the other mingling faces are nobles surely, but they lack a certain flare common to the core-lands of the Sandrinel Alliance or the Crystal City of Lagria—not at all like the colorful people you are accustomed to seeing gathered around Lady Emalia. If you had to guess, this group of humans and elves, most getting on in years, are merely local lords and ladies. Perhaps they own valley manors, or profitable shipping routes along the Waterways, or a chain of mines down along the Low Road. But of them all you have a growing suspicion none is particularly exceptional, which is to say like yourselves.

It may just be that the three of you, out of the more than two dozen standing at the foot of the Skywalk, are the only true wizards in attendance. And the rest are just common... aristocrats?

[Ripptor]

http://i.vgy.me/waS64S.png (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449194)
At Clytemnestra's note, Baubie's peeking head looks around at the skyline view, now safe and sound on the ground. Megamax shrugs, recently jaded from the bird's eye view on the flight over. Speaking aloud to the others this time, "It's acceptable. One hopes the view from the castle proper captures some of the beauty of the Spires from above." Walking along the righthand side the steed, Megamax quietly keeps her buckler between the two. Not raised, just ... Ready.

Looking around at the rest of the congregation, she suddenly recognizes their stature in the surrounding guests... they appear to be the only Mages in a sea of the Talentless. Minor house insignias, mundane trappings, and sidelong glances in their direction further paint the divide further. Though, if she didn't already know better, Kotoba would easily be mistaken for the rabble in the crowd.

"Come, let us Mages lead the way to the gates. We mustn't keep Lady waiting on the day of her funereal celebration. There is much to drink, and so little light of day!" Megamax wonders how her life had been, betrothed to a farlands noble... Fully expecting Emalia to have chafed beneath what she's been raised to believe such a life would entail. This banquet must surely represent the return at last of her personal freedom.

Thinking on her own path to personal freedom, she wonders silently if the others recall their long-past discussions of the Tracery rumors at University... Perhaps they can help her, if she broaches the subject correctly?

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

Clytemnestra looks more closely at the demon-woman. How many could there be?

"Ah! It's...Meagan, yes? I believe we had Abjurations together once upon a time."

She turns to introduce herself to Kotaba and Trinity.

"Good morning. My name is Clytemnestra Dekatos. I'm assuming you're both on your way to the wedding together. As Miss, ah, Maximus - Maximus? Am I remembering correctly - has said, we shall endeavour to celebrate this new chapter in the life of a, a colleague. Will you accompany us?"


A tall and imposing looking elven woman is dressed impeccably in a stylish brocade jacket and woolen breeches. Her lovely face is marked by a dozen scars, the puckered and ivory marks standing out against her tanned skin. The woman's loose hair is grey-white and falls to the small of her back. The woman carries a slender polished staff, and when she moves it becomes clear that it provides stability to her tottering walk, as well as a sense of style.
Clytemnestra 'Nessie" Dekatos (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449808)
Female LN Grey Elf Beguiler1/Conjurer4/Ultimate Magus1, Level 6, Init 4, HP 25/25, Speed 15
AC 14, Touch 10, Flat-footed 14, Fort 2, Ref 1, Will 9, Base Attack Bonus 2, Power Points 33/34
Sling +2 (1d4+1, x2)
Quarterstaff +3 (1d6+1, x2)
Mage Armour (+4 Armor)
Abilities Str 12, Dex 11, Con 13, Int 22, Wis 12, Cha 14
Condition Mage Armour

[Ripptor]

http://i.vgy.me/waS64S.png (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449194)
Meagan winces at the woman's mention of her name ... There goes any hope that the pair had gotten so old as to forget her. Being an unforgettable presence has its perks, mind you, but Megamax would prefer to avoid the gaze and ire of the Necromantic... A shiver runs down her spine despite her rigid composure.

"Why yes, my manners escape me. I am Meagan, the High Daughter Maximus of the Red Coven. It's been some time, though I bet I could still disassemble any of that old man's barriers on my first try!" Megamax visibly draws herself back upwards, back to her usual form in posture and boasting. Dismissive Abjuration was one of the few things her teachers actively praised her for, rather than her desires to burn down the college halls more efficiently. If they had their way she'd be a dedicated Abjurer, stalking the dusty halls and teaching wizards twice her age how to dissolve a Force Screen properly. No, thank you.

Hearing Clytemnestra's rumors of another marriage, even Meagan is taken aback. "Has Lady been to bold as to claim another already? She will never ceases to amaze." From her pocket a mental addition, Bold the hand that takes another, when the last is not yet Cold. Be prepared for your political opportunities here, Meagan. Megamax manages not to roll her eyes out loud.

[Erelamar]

Four footmen descend the Skywalk, coming to gather the crowd. They draw ever nearer, and just as you thought them in range to begin beckoning the nobles and yourselves forward, you hear a thunder of hooves. Down from the lofty trail of the High Road comes a pretty, dappled steed, an Elvenbred riding horse. And upon it, a human rider, clad in rich furs and velvet.

The horse comes to a near-instant stop at the rear of the larger group. There is an odd multitude of expressions emitted from the gathered nobles: gasps of surprise, sighs of wonder, some few groans, and perhaps if you were paying very good attention, a tongue-click of vexation.

The rider, a middle-aged human nobleman, dismounts with youthful skill. He absently hands the reins of his beautiful mount to another waiting noble who—gasping at the impropriety—takes them as would any common servant; his face falling flat as the nobleman walks off into the crowd without care.

This newcomer surveils the large party with a look of smug satisfaction... that is until his sight lands on the three of you. His expression falls blank, a neutralness you've ghastly seen before except on the faces of a construct. His eyes flit between Megamax and Kotoba but they linger longer still on Clytemnestra. It all happens in an instant though, as there is a sharp trumpet blow and the footmen have reached the beginnings of the Skywalk, and about-face, they begin to march your gathering up to the Castle Allsatalos.

The new nobleman's expression flares into a friendly smile and he approaches you as the crowd surges forward. "Happy times again it must be to see exotic faces attending one of Lady Emalia's little parties! I am Orbal, Duke of Bruckwald, and who might you be, friends?" As he falls in beside your little troupe now making your way along the airy bridge towards the elven castle, the bejeweled rapier at Duke Orbal's hip catches the fading sunlight in rhythmic flashes of color.

[D&DPrinceTandem]

Addressing all parties involved, "I am Kotoba-Ryu, Initiate wordsmith of The Grand Raconteur and this here is", Kotoba takes a deep breath as so begin to spout off a "Trinity, speaker of the Grand Raconteur. All other formalities are too foreign to be understood." Trinity interrupts, presenting a dismissive wave to Kotoba's questioning look. Having finished a little under half of Kotoba's hair into braids she momentarily considers her handywork before turning to the nobleman and presenting a genuine smile, "Why hello Sir Orbal, its a pleasure to meet your acquaintance. Me and my mentor are collectors of stories and would love to here the story that brought such a influential individual from the Lands of Bruckwald to Lady Marie's party, as well as funeral celebration and wedding it would seem...idk i'm just here for the stories."
Meanwhile Kotoba addresses Clytemnestra and Meagan, "greetings, I apologize for my slow response, my mind doesn't function as fast as it used to, but yes we would gladly accompany the two of you, along with our new friend here."
Although she has sworn off riches Trinity normally handles conversations with the more regal of folk as where as other clergies, whilst Kotoba converses with the more studious folk (mainly wizards but other intellectual scholars as well). Both of them equally speak to the masses that don't fall under these catagories.

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

Clytemnestra arches an eyebrow as Count Orbal approaches. She had had her fill of blustery nobles in her years, but there seemed to be some hope that this one had at least a touch of substance underneath the bland charm. She did not dismount her shadowy steed as he approached, but ducked her head respectfully as he greeted them. It was only when he spoke of exotic faces that she faltered a bit, her left hand rising instinctively, two fingers tracing delicately the network of scars that vanished up into her hairline. A decade ago, she would have reflexively used her magics to conceal the marks, but she was beyond that now. Now, they were a reminder to herself of everything she had been, and everything that she was. Perhaps they were even a kind of warning to others. This was a survivor.

"My dear count, you honour us beyond deserving. My name is Clytemnestra Dekatos, late of White Harbour. It will give me great -"

She turns nouns over in her mind like precious gems. What would it mean to her, to see Emalia married off?

"- pleasure to join the party."

As the group begins walking up the magnificent road, Clytemnestra drifts up alongside.

"If you don't mind me asking, Duke Orbal, what drew you to the four of us in particular? I mean, Miss Maximus is most charming, of course."

She smiled and arched an eyebrow at the duke, letting him know that she spoke only in jest.

"Let me guess. You're scouting potential brides for your son, and it's always been your dream to have a wizard in the family."

Knowledge local to know something more about Orbal: [roll0] or an untrained Nobility check: [roll1]


A tall and imposing looking elven woman is dressed impeccably in a stylish brocade jacket and woolen breeches. Her lovely face is marked by a dozen scars, the puckered and ivory marks standing out against her tanned skin. The woman's loose hair is grey-white and falls to the small of her back. The woman carries a slender polished staff, and when she moves it becomes clear that it provides stability to her tottering walk, as well as a sense of style.
Clytemnestra 'Nessie" Dekatos (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449808)
Female LN Grey Elf Beguiler1/Conjurer4/Ultimate Magus1, Level 6, Init 4, HP 25/25, Speed 15
AC 14, Touch 10, Flat-footed 14, Fort 2, Ref 1, Will 9, Base Attack Bonus 2, Power Points 33/34
Sling +2 (1d4+1, x2)
Quarterstaff +3 (1d6+1, x2)
Mage Armour (+4 Armor)
Abilities Str 12, Dex 11, Con 13, Int 22, Wis 12, Cha 14
Condition Mage Armour

[Erelamar]

At Trinity's words, the Duke crooks an eyebrow, and his words come fast, "Wedding? Funeral? The next two evenings are just one of Lady Emalia's banquets. She's been having them every fortnight since her husband, the late elf lord, may he rest in peace, passed." He rubs his smooth chin in thought, and continues, "Of course that was fifteen months ago. I do suppose for all its beauty, Allsatalos can be rather lifeless and dull being so remote as it is... A cheery affair every once in a while can soothe a sad heart. I too know similar grief and do what I can to comfort the Lady. As such I try to make it to as many of these parties as I can—"

"All of them!" calls the disgruntled noble from the back of the crowd leading Orbal's horse up the Skywalk. There are mild chuckles throughout the greater group but it quickly abates and they return to their chit-chat and gossip.

You are perhaps a quarter of the way along the Skywalk, wisps of mist pass between you, frosty cold. And every once in a while a great buffet of wind causes you to take the railing to keep yourself afoot.

Duke Orbal's smile resumes. "Well, I haven't been keeping track."

At Clytemnestra's introduction, the Duke nods knowingly. Though her knowledge of him, his son, causes him to chuckle as if at some private joke. Before he can be asked about it, he diverts, "I'm afraid my son takes too much after his old man and is something of a rake. He'll take no advice from me in matters of matrimony. The thought of a wizard in the family is nice of course, but Allsatalos is the last place I would come looking for one—there are no wizards in Allsatalos.

"As for why I came up to you, it's because, in the past year or so, I can't remember seeing a new face at one of Lady Emalia's banquets."

[Ripptor]

http://i.vgy.me/waS64S.png (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449194)
Megamax recognizes the Duke of Bruckwald looking them over, and tilts her head at the attempt at lavish decorum. As expected, their reputation for being all pomp and no substance appears intact. An expensive front covering a decaying nobility wont to sell itself off as it dwindles into nothingness. Mother would hvae such things to say, if she were here...

Megan's smile doesn't falter as the Duke approaches them with high flattery, and she quietly enjoys Clytemnestra's recoil at the mention of her beauty. Still self-conscious, despite her beauty? Something to play her for, later... Meagan is used to flattery, and simply smiles as the man ingratiates himself. What she was not prepared for was Clytemnestra's deflection onto Meagan herself, and sudden discussion of potential marriage partners... Her head snaps with surprise at the Duke, before he laughs it off. Listening to the Duke, she considers if this man may be a decent drinking fellow after all, making it a priority to attend each of Lady's many parties. Of course, he could just be playing an angle to save his dying duchy, so one must be careful.

Meagan wonders aloud at Orbal's correction on the banquet ahead. "Fifteen months ago? Word travels slowly from these far reaches, then..." Shrugging it off, she continues, "It's been a matter of years since I've last seen Lady Emalia, we were acquainted once long ago. I am Meagan, the High Daughter Maximus of the Red Coven. I look forward to reuniting with her soon, and celebrate her station."

Giving Duke Orbal a sweet sidelong smile, Megamax plies her own questions. "You seem like good banquet company, if your son takes after you I imagine he should be along soon enough? What man of excitement could miss one of Lady's banquets?" As the wind blows, she leans into her unseen servant for support... Despite what the Ungifted may think seeing her walk arm-in-arm with thin air.

Lets see if we can get any interesting information about the Duke and his son...

Throughout the conversation + walk, Meagan will take 10 for Diplomacy 27 to try and move the Duke from Indifferent to Helpful, to see if she can't get some advise/advocacy from him later on, should they need it... Or just honest information.

On the note of honest information, she'll also take 10 for Sense Motive 20 on a Hunch while they talk, for a gut assessment of when he's being honest / dodgy.

(Social Intuition allows her to Take 10 on the Diplo/Sense checks, but LMK if you'd rather I roll them!)

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

Clytemnestra conceals the double take she mentally completes when Duke Orbal's comments seem to suggest that years have gone by since Emalia's invitation had first arrived. Had she misunderstood?

Her mind raced as she rode along beside the others. A time shift? Was Orbal insane? Had Emalia simply lied in her invitation? Meaghan didn't seem fazed by any of this, so Clytemnestra opts to simply remain silent and focus on the ride.




A tall and imposing looking elven woman is dressed impeccably in a stylish brocade jacket and woolen breeches. Her lovely face is marked by a dozen scars, the puckered and ivory marks standing out against her tanned skin. The woman's loose hair is grey-white and falls to the small of her back. The woman carries a slender polished staff, and when she moves it becomes clear that it provides stability to her tottering walk, as well as a sense of style.
Clytemnestra 'Nessie" Dekatos (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449808)
Female LN Grey Elf Beguiler1/Conjurer4/Ultimate Magus1, Level 6, Init 4, HP 25/25, Speed 15
AC 14, Touch 10, Flat-footed 14, Fort 2, Ref 1, Will 9, Base Attack Bonus 2, Power Points 33/34
Sling +2 (1d4+1, x2)
Quarterstaff +3 (1d6+1, x2)
Mage Armour (+4 Armor)
Abilities Str 12, Dex 11, Con 13, Int 22, Wis 12, Cha 14
Condition Mage Armour

[Erelamar]

Duke Orbal grins at Megamax' suggestion. "Oh, no. I wouldn't let my son within a hundred leagues of Allsatalos," and he briefly glances up at Clytemnestra astride her spectral steed, before returning his attention Megamax, "Besides, he's tied up on a hunting trip this weekend, conveniently." He emits a low chuckle.

The small talk continues as the whole of your group follows the footmen to the yawning gates of the elven castle. The smooth, vibrant pinks and purples which caught and reflected the sunlight among the frosty mists are far darker and stonier up close. Perhaps, it is merely the shadow of the clouds.

You dismount and—if necessary—attendants take the steeds and lead them around the gate and eastern wall. With the blast of four horns, the footmen part and the aristocrats and magicians are ushered into a mighty foyer of glittering marble. A high balcony rings the whole of the room. A small fleet of servants liveried with the elf lord's swan sigil waits at the far side of the chamber before a grand archway into the castle's first hall—two massive staircases within climbing up out of sight.

"Ah, here's the imperious old crane, now," whispers Orbal to Megamax.

High up on the balcony, a figure flanked by guards comes into view. He is an elf, tall, pale as the moon with long, stark white hair and eyes like black pits. This person too wears the retainer's livery of Allsatalos but anyone can recognize it as being of a much loftier rank.

The white elf begins a flat, droning monologue, "Greetings, honored guests. We again welcome you to Castle Allsatalos. Lady Emalia thanks you for your kind attendance. She will join you this evening during cocktails before dinner..."

"She wants to make an entrance," again, Orbal whispers to Megamax.

"And for now these servants will direct you to your bed chambers to rest and refresh yourselves, or you may—" His voice catches in his throat. The white elf's slow survey of the party standing far below him finally comes to rest on the three magicians. His jaw rolls around like he wants to give an order but doesn't, and with clenched teeth, he continues, "Or you may, if you are feeling chilled from the Skywalk, enjoy a refreshment of hot brandied chocolate and a fire in the chamber to your left. Cocktails will begin at Six."

The white elf almost turns to leave then snaps back, "One final thing, just a gentle reminder: besides your guest suites and those corridors between them and the south wing, no one is to wander the castle unescorted. Locked doors are locked for a reason. Allsatalos is old, and has many memories." Though looking as if he wants to say more, he turns and withdraws from view.

"Huh. Weird..." says the Duke. "Well, until tonight, then." He waves at the four of you over his shoulder as he practically snatches up a servant to take him to his guest room.

Each of you recognizes the white elf as a snow elf. They are known to be reclusive and unpleasant, and they all hail from their frozen city beyond the Titanspine Mountains.
Both of you spot a figure lurking behind a tall statue near a corridor leading off the entrance foyer to the east (on your right side as you walked in). The spot is underneath and out of sight of where the white elf was standing on the balcony above. You recognize the old human as Spycrist, Lady Emalia's longtime cohort.

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

As they arrive at the castle, Clytemnestra slides off of her smoke horse, and it becomes increasingly clear why she uses it. The staff in her hand plants firmly on the ground, and she leans heavily on it whenever not taking a step. Her legs are stiff and do not seem to bend as well as you might expect from a relatively young elf.

As they are greeted by the snow elf, she nods her understanding, and turns to Duke Orbal.

"Again, my thanks, My Lord. You have done us a great courtesy with your company, and I will look forward to further conversation this evening."

Before a servant can come to collect her to see her to her room, Clytemnestra makes her way carefully over to the statuary by the entrance, pretending to give the the line and form of the statue due consideration, when any fool could see that it was neoconclavist claptrap, a sentimental harking back to a lost time when what her people needed right now was the essence, the spirit of that time.

She stopped next to that statue and murmured to the figure concealed behind it. "And good afternoon to you, Spycrist. Your loyalty does you credit, and congratulations on not choking on the sheer decorum of this place. How've you been?"





A tall and imposing looking elven woman is dressed impeccably in a stylish brocade jacket and woolen breeches. Her lovely face is marked by a dozen scars, the puckered and ivory marks standing out against her tanned skin. The woman's loose hair is grey-white and falls to the small of her back. The woman carries a slender polished staff, and when she moves it becomes clear that it provides stability to her tottering walk, as well as a sense of style.
Clytemnestra 'Nessie" Dekatos (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449808)
Female LN Grey Elf Beguiler1/Conjurer4/Ultimate Magus1, Level 6, Init 4, HP 25/25, Speed 15
AC 14, Touch 10, Flat-footed 14, Fort 2, Ref 1, Will 9, Base Attack Bonus 2, Power Points 33/34
Sling +2 (1d4+1, x2)
Quarterstaff +3 (1d6+1, x2)
Mage Armour (+4 Armor)
Abilities Str 12, Dex 11, Con 13, Int 22, Wis 12, Cha 14
Condition Mage Armour

[Erelamar]

Clytemnestra

The nobles shuffle to-and-fro, wandering into the heated parlor to the west and following their guides into the grand reception hall and up the mighty stairs into the bowels of the castle and their waiting guest suites. Porters with freshly unloaded luggage pass through the grand foyer with ecstatic haste. With all the hustle and bustle, Clytemnestra and Spycrist standing beside the neoconclavist statue are like a little pocket of private calm.

To Clytemnestra's eyes, Spycrist is little changed: his tan has softened, but he is gnarlier than ever, like a small old tree. Even for a human, it's hard to imagine he was ever young. He wears the same beaten leathers—perhaps a little cleaner these days—but now with a gilded brooch with the swan insignia of Allsatalos. Really, the only thing missing is his dented battleaxe slung across his back.

Emalia's cohort listens to Clytemnestra, but his eyes follow the Duke until he has disappeared from sight. Then he speaks, "Oh, Nessie, there're not enough hours in the day." Spycrist rubs his bald, liver-spotted head.

"Not good, not good. Well, good enough when the elf lord was living but that's a done thing now. Those were happy times, for the most part... Och, sorry, Nessie. Maybe, you don't want to be hearing that."

He stretches and peers up at the balcony above. "Come, come. If'n that bastard-steward's not still up there, he'll be down soon to take'a look at the new faces. I've got things to tell ya..."

Spycrist moves to scuttle down the eastern corridor but snaps straight up as if struck with sudden thought. The old retainer turns back, like second nature, and offers Clytemnestra his arm to help her along.

[Ripptor]

http://i.vgy.me/waS64S.png (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449194)
Meagan smiles throughout the welcome ceremony, listening to the Duke and grinning at his commentary. One day she will meet this son of his. Meagan found herself looking forward to Lady's entrance, until the Old Crane seemed to personally tell her not to go exploring. Curious... She waves as the Duke takes his leave to his quarters, but she's in no rush that way. Someone will take her to a room tonight, eventually. For now, the brandied hot chocolate sounds far more important!

Catching Spycrist at the corner of her eye, she sends him a mental greeting as Clytemnestra walks over his way. Hey gramps, it's Megamax! Join me for some drinks! He already knows she's a telepath anyway, so no secrets lost there... It'll be nice to be able to "speak" freely again, with someone besides Baubie.

Barring Spycrist mentally responding with a "Come here!" or something more intriguing, Meagan will make her way to the hot chocolate bar and start socializing! Of course, if there's something more interesting that way, she'll head on over :smallsmile:

If she does hit up the bar, she'll start socializing, collecting general information and good will:
Gather Information: 16
Diplomacy: 27

If things get fun, she's known to sing, and perform some 'bar tricks' and try to convince people it is (or isn't) magic :smallbiggrin:

Perform(Sing): [roll0]
Perform(Legerdemain): [roll1]

EDIT: Oh, and she'll watch her drinks... If she doesn't see someone pour it for her, she'll either not drink it or subtle-cast a Detect Poison on it. You can never be too careful at the bar!

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra
Chatting with Spycrist

Clytemnestra, oblivious to Meagan's telepathic invitation, smiles sadly.

"Nessie. I haven't heard that name in...well, it seems like a lifetime. When I heard about her situation here, it sounded like Emalia had made the same choice I did: stability and respectability over risk and excitement. But if things have gone significantly worse for the two of you here, I'd like to know more, and help if I can. Should we grab a bottle of the brandy, ditch this party and head up to my room? Or do you have duties to perform?"




A tall and imposing looking elven woman is dressed impeccably in a stylish brocade jacket and woolen breeches. Her lovely face is marked by a dozen scars, the puckered and ivory marks standing out against her tanned skin. The woman's loose hair is grey-white and falls to the small of her back. The woman carries a slender polished staff, and when she moves it becomes clear that it provides stability to her tottering walk, as well as a sense of style.
Clytemnestra 'Nessie" Dekatos (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449808)
Female LN Grey Elf Beguiler1/Conjurer4/Ultimate Magus1, Level 6, Init 4, HP 25/25, Speed 15
AC 14, Touch 10, Flat-footed 14, Fort 2, Ref 1, Will 9, Base Attack Bonus 2, Power Points 33/34
Sling +2 (1d4+1, x2)
Quarterstaff +3 (1d6+1, x2)
Mage Armour (+4 Armor)
Abilities Str 12, Dex 11, Con 13, Int 22, Wis 12, Cha 14
Condition Mage Armour

[Erelamar]

Clytemnestra (and possibly Megamax)

Spycrist waves, somehow subtly and emphatically all at once, for Megamax to follow them and leads Nessie down the western corridor.

At the mention of brandy, the bald-headed human smiles and halfway withdraws a golden flask from his breast pocket. It's a far cry nicer than the old, tarnished iron one he'd carried around for years.

He agrees to Clytemnestra's suggestion, "Yeah, yeah. Just leading a guest to their room, that makes sense if we get asked. Though I'd like it if'n we didn't run into nobody."

Together, you pass a great series of northern windows which look out upon the eastern garden open to the blue sky above. It's like an impressionist's dream: black trees gracefully curved, hanging wisteria, a small black pond dotted with lotuses, a stream cascading down smooth stones with obligatory tiny, cute bridge, and flawless dark green grass. At every side, the walls of Allsatalos rise up around it. How the garden survives at these altitudes hints at magic. On the south wall though, you pass a single half-opened door of a guard station. More than a dozen armored men sit around a table talking, their halberds lined up against the far wall.

All the while, Spycrist is speaking, "I think she's deeply unhappy. She's spending gold like a drunken sailor. All these parties, week in and week out. She's increased every servant's salary half a dozen times, just because it gives her a moment's happiness to see the look on their faces. She orders art, clothes, jewelry from the city and has it flown in on those giant eagles so she can have it right quick, but a lot just sits around in shipping crates because she's already lost interest. And these parties, och, these parties, you've never seen such a thing, well you will..."

You enter a portrait gallery, long-dead elves staring down at you. They display such a variety of fashions, that the line must reach far back into the earliest ages of Eldwizand. Spycrist continues to a small, side door that opens to expose a tight spiral staircase leading up. The climb is not an especially pleasant one for Clytemnestra, but fortunately, the old retainer gets off at only the second story landing. You don't want to think about how much higher these stairs could even reach!

"And that steward-bastard, Father Neomund, the snow elf, just keeps letting her do it. He's not trying to stop her or even slow her, at all. Isn't that supposed to be his job? Nessie, she bought a Lagrian Skyship just like the two of you talked about way back when. He arranged it! Had it flown here and everything. Do you remember, do you remember the price tag on one of them things? I think she means to bankrupt this castle, and I think that bastard-steward means to help her. She's doing it because she's depressed, but his reasons I cannot even figure..."

The first second-story chamber you enter is like a hothouse, a great glass ceiling above open to the sun, some of the tall towers of Allsatalos looming over your heads. Long rows of waist-high tables hold tiny potted plants. Herbs of every variety and flowers of tragic beauty fill the room with a thick, though not unpleasant, earthy smell. The northern windows here also look down over the wisteria garden.

Spycrist is not done yet though, he moves to a door in the western wall and cracks it open to peek in, and shuts it, again. "Wait here a minute until that snow elf is down in the foyer then we'll cross over to the west wing where your room'll be. Yeah, old Spycrist outsmarted you, steward!" He pulls out the flask and offers it to you. "It's the good stuff," he says, then continues,

"What's even worse, though is that old shark swimming 'round her. Every party: always here, I tell ya. And she likes him. They talk long into the nights, loooong. Nessie, I think she's told him everything."

Well, that rambled on a little longer than I expected... :smallredface:

And the price of a Lagrian Skyship is around 400,000 gp.

[Ripptor]

http://i.vgy.me/waS64S.png (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449194)

At Spycrist's mental urging, Megamax takes a quick wistful glance at the hot cocoa clubroom before walking off in the general direction of the pair, catching up as the old man waits for some privacy for his rambling. Meagan listens closely while admiring the gardens and tapestries, then the beautiful greenhouse on the second floor. Extravagant parties and endless purchases sound just like Lady to Meagan, and pretty perfect to herself as well...

But Spycrist would know if Lady is unhappy. She gladly shares the old man's flask, slowly downing a fill as they wait. "Elves live a long time... It may be the late lord and himself had a falling out centuries ago, and he's enjoying watching the house coffers dry?" The comment on the 'shark' gave her pause though. "By shark, you mean Duke Orbal? He certainly seems the charismatic contender... I was hoping to enjoy some time with him myself, and see what he's hiding beneath that smile of his." Looking to Clytemnestra, "Do you have some kind of connection with the Duke? Nessie?" Meagan tries the adorable nickname across her tongue, just to pry for some fun.

All that talk of over-expensive fineries is going to make Meagan's hand itch, but she's going to need to feel *really* sure that Lady won't miss something before she takes anything from her outright!

[Erelamar]

Clytemnestra and Megamax

"Aye, Meagan. Orbal, that's his name, alright." At Megamax's further questions, Spycrist merely glances Clytemnestra's way without a word, then goes again to crack open the western door and peek into the next chamber.

Kirsch and Victor

However you reached this distant realm, whether traveling in comfort aboard merchant barges or speedily by Great Eagle Transport, or slogging through the Low Road and industrial air of the mining towns, or faced the bluster of the High Road among the mountain passes, you have reached your destination. The Skywalk to Allsatalos lies before you. Footmen in the swan sigil livery march in unison down the bridge to escort you the long walk to the castle's gates.

But you do not wait alone. You stand with a half-dozen human and elven nobles and their retainers, provincial locals if your guess it right. At first glance though, one stands out. A lizardfolk grandee waits with his baggage train, and there is a low murmur about him shared between the other guests. There is a magician's air about him. Whether he is alone among this group in such pursuits, remains to be seen...

While I'm pretty sure how Kirsch would present himself here, I'm less confident about Victor. So, Geekisthenewsexy, be sure to include just how obvious you want Victor to be as a magician, or a magical person, or perhaps how aristocratic (does he present himself as a working mage or a high-born arcanist? etc), at least in the present circumstances.

[Metastachydium]

Make way, gentle crowd! His Lordship Kirsch son of Kirsch of Likhten's Line is coming through! the young human woman moving before the mounted lizard intones, much to the satisfaction of her master. Kirsch sits erect in the saddle, acknowledging the more important looking nobles around with curt nods, a wide, serene smile on his face. It is good to see faces other than Innte's and Harel's at long last. Taking the HIgh Road sounded like a good idea at the time, but the winds and the rocks and ever more winds and ever more rocks quickly soured his mood. No matter, though. He has arrived, and in time as it would seem.
Reaching the skywalk, Kirsch dismounts with a single, elegant, fluid motion and straightens his back, leaning on his walking stick, his bright green scales glistening brilliantly. Why, what a lovely vista we have here! he says to noone in particular, while beckoning to a liveried servant to take over his pony. Yes, My Lord. replies the human male carrying most of his baggage, but Kirsch ignores him for now. I was somewhat worried that we shall be late. My servants are fine specimens, but they walk at a regrettably slow pace. he adds, absent-mindedly inspecting the claw on his left thumb. We are sorry, My Lord. the other two say almost in unison. Hush. the nobleman answers, raising his right hand, the blazing golden sun surrounded by a circle of eight stars, the coat-of-arms of Likhten's Line flashing on the stone of his signet ring. And let us move, perhaps. Lead on, if you may. he addresses another servant of Allsatalos, ready to make his entrée.

[Geeksthenewsexy]

A handsome and well-manicured human male of about six and a half feet tall with an athletic build stands casually as if mingling with those around him, flashing a pearly-white smile to anyone he passes. Except he doesn't seem to actually do any mingling beyond a smile or nod and a "Victor Lustig. Charmed, I'm sure." Hands in the pockets of his well-tailored traveler's outfit cut in the latest style and a jaunty befeathered hat, he seems to be the peak example of the arrogant and self-absorbed aristocracy... Until he trips over his own feet and falls flat on his face in the midst of the crowd.

The jaunty hat falls from his head, and the man's appearance changes drastically. Shorter by about a foot, now looking more gaunt than athletic, and his clothing no longer looking at all fashionable is dust-speckled and threadbare - even the jaunty hat looks worn and frayed. Snatching at the hat frantically, he slams it back into his now balding head as he clambers to his feet. After a brief moment, his previous (and much more handsome) appearance is back once more, and he visibly takes a deep breath with his eyes closed as if to calm himself. Nodding slightly, he opens his eyes and resumes his casual-seeming countenance... though it seems remarkably more rigid than before, eyes a bit wider and with far less smiling.


TL/DR: Handsome prince charming man! *Hat of disguise falls off* Balding middle-aged has-been. *Put hat back on* Nothing to see here, move along, move along...

Note: My wife (who is from Germany) tells me that 'Lustig' actually translates to 'Funny'. And so the bumbling charlatan persona was born.

[Erelamar]

Kirsch and Victor

There is a momentary gasp at Victor's mishap, then a small chuckle before a human noblewoman exclaims, "The Lady's entertainment starts before we even enter the castle this time!" This is followed with more laughter which breaks into a round of applause by the rest of the aristocrats.

The footmen of Allsatalos arrive, about-face, and begin the march back up the Skywalk. Kirsch, who has made his way to the head of the column, stands beside an elven lady bearing a kindly smile. "Greetings to you, Lord Kirsch," she says in flawless draconic. "I am Nadjiel of Spyre. I hope our chill climate does not discomfort you too badly. I can honestly say, I don't believe I've ever seen a lizardfolk at Allsatalos before. Where you perhaps, just in the neighborhood and heard about our little gatherings?"

As the group begins to advance towards the castle's gates. The same noblewoman who cut through the awkwardness earlier falls into step near Victor. She bears a mischievous, toothy grin which is somehow strangely attractive... at least on her. The cloying scent of perfume does not quite manage to cover the strong smell of wine she emits. "Go ahead," she says to Victor. "Show us another trick then..."

[D&DPrinceTandem]

Kotoba waves over a servant "I have something to do first but once i am finished a guide to logging will be much appreciated", and begins to unstrap his bag at the same time uttering arcane words of message and whispers. Trinity, knowing the meaning behind the syllables, smiles joyfully and hunches down into the bag, changing her appearance into something.. more appealing than her avian misfortunes. Mystical symbols begin to glow in the air around Kotoba and his robes blow in an illusory winds, accompanied with the sound of pages being turned.
Trinity crawls out of the bag, but before her new form can be seen her presence is felt by all, an aura of the utmost serenity, pure undiluted peace emanates from her location. Her new form is about a foot taller at four and a half feet. Her skin, at least what little is showing is akin to that of a perfectly carved polished bronze statute. Her hair a Radiant gold flowing from her head to well below the middle of her back. Her eyes are pools of Opal white and joy. Adorning her head is a Platinum Circlet that emmets a glow pleasant to the eyes with a luminosity comparable to that of a torch. She wears a black dress crowned a mantle of golden feathers around her collar and shoulders, extending to just above her elbows. On her feet she wears black flats with golden cloth bows tied to tighten them.
At the Climax of Kotoba's Invocation the arcane winds die down and the sounds dim into a light hum, the golden and red symbols in the air circle His and Trinity's heads in a figure eight before splitting into two sigils in the shape of red dragons and two in the shape of Golden song birds. The dragons enter Kotoba's throat and forehead while the song birds enter Trinity's throat and forehead.
"Im going to find a room for us and do a little research, feel free to converse here, don't stray too far though, contact me if anything goes wrong." Kotoba says to Trinity. He nods and he turns to the servant, picking up the bag and following he/her to the rooms.
Trinity ventures amongst the nobles, greeted by awe, she waves a serene hand at many, small talking and verbal blessings. She sense unease in the room momentarily and then notices the source, a stumbling middle aged man, she smiles to herself as he puts his hat back on, an interesting tale for sure. Attempting to make her way through the maze of suits and dresses to the man she loses him momentarily and accidentally stumbles into a handsome and well-manicured man of about six and a half feet tall with an athletic build. "Ohp, sorry sir," his features catch her eye as an interesting story that would surely be a joyous listen, although it would seem as through she intruded upon a previous conversation, "sorry or intrusion madam." she claps her hands together and does a slight bow.
Kotoba-Ryu: The Spell he cast was Message; the extra thematics was a result of him using Elder Giant magic on the casting to recite a miracle (a Divine story) about a Celestial Princess sanctifying a Great Red Dragon.
The Miracle is recited equalling in Celestial and Draconic.
Those who can only understand Draconic believe the story is of a Princess that imprisoned The dragon's mind in her Dreamland, and transformed its body into a Nightingale. Every Night the Nightingale would sing to the Princess, a manifestation of the Dragon's will resisting the purifying energies of the royal. This song, a powerfully defiant cantation transformed from to majestic vocation of Virtue.
Those who can only understand Celestial believe the story is of a Dragon who captured the princess and through the years of her captivity every night she would transform into a Nightingale and sing to the Dragon. The song softened the dragons heart and purified it, the dragon promised to return the Princess but the promise was made too late, the Kingdoms army stormed the Dragons lair and vanquished it. The Royal transformed the Dragons remains into a Nightingale familiar and summoned the dragons soul into its new form.
Those who understand both languages realize the story is about a Dragon and a princess who fell in love, thought the love was forbidden given the kindgom's prejudice towards the Arcane. The Dragon left the kingdom with the princess in tow and was said to have abducted the royal. Over the years together the Princess would would to separate the dragon from its vile heritage (at the dragons wishes) with a nightly ritual. There paradise together would be cut short by the Kindgoms invading Army, who stormed the dragons lair, slayed the dragon, and "saved" the princess. As a Final gift to the Dragon the Princess reincarnated the Dragon as a Nightingale, her Familiar.
Speaks in this color )Kotoba:daa520(
Speaks in this Color )Trinity:a9a9a9(
other notes: Trinity's new apparel is themed off of This (https://scontent-sjc3-1.cdninstagram.com/v/t51.2885-15/e35/s1080x1080/118970926_360666641607113_3562355634801655475_n.jp g?tp=1&_nc_ht=scontent-sjc3-1.cdninstagram.com&_nc_cat=105&_nc_ohc=IfAHNakC01EAX9EuhWo&edm=AP_V10EBAAAA&ccb=7-4&oh=47428049ad4b02f1c89e6cb233eb3c92&oe=60C28D0A&_nc_sid=4f375e) by Gabriella Bujdoso. Her physical characteristics are meant to imitate that of a Throne Archon (https://static.wikia.nocookie.net/forgottenrealms/images/e/e3/Throne_Archon_3e.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20180109181013).
Actions
Trinity: She used her Supernatural ability to Disguise self and her Orison Light on her forehead.
Kotoba: Cast the Cantrip Message while using Elder Giant Magic and Reserves of Strength to have a Grand total Caster level of 17. The Spells lasts for 2 hours and 50 minutes, the range is 270ft, The message can go around corners but no point of the messages travel can exceed this range, distance traveled is not measured only distance from messenger at any given point.

Kotoba will narrate the pathway he takes to Trinity so she knows her way to him if need be

[Metastachydium]

Well met, Lady Nadjiel, well met. the lizard answers in fluent, rolling Elven, tapping his chest lightly with an open palm in greeting. It is a delight to hear the tongue of my kind spoken in such an exquisite manner – my servants know it, of course, but I find the way they render it lacking in grace. I likewise appreciate your concerns about my health, but as you certainly realise, I am a Miesener and Miessen has its share of mountains and winds as well. Kirsch speaks without losing his serene smile for so much as a moment, doing his best to seem unbothered by the thought that he definitely should have packed a cloak. As for my reasons for being here, the kind Lady specifically raquested that I attend this banquet of hers. I was unaware that these events occur with some degree of regularity. I take it that you are among the recurring guests, then? Kirsch forces an expression of mild curiosity on his scaly face as he looks up into Nadjiel's face.

Let's see what the lizard knows about Lady Nadjiel of Spyre and her family!
Knowledge (nobility and royalty) [roll0]
Knowledge (history) [roll1]
Knowledge (local) [roll2]

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra
Chatting with Spycrist and Meaghan, she nods faintly as the faithful companion looks to her. She in turn makes a pretense of a slight mis-step - hardly out of place, given her difficulty in walking - in order to catch Meaghan's eye. "Patience." she mouths.

Hearing what she had from Spycrist, she starts to look for external signs in the castle around them as they follow. Blank spaces where there should be paintings, furniture...things that might have been sold off in service of a growing debt. The number of questions was growing exponentially, and Clytemnestra was startled to discover that she was...enjoying herself immensely.

So far.




A tall and imposing looking elven woman is dressed impeccably in a stylish brocade jacket and woolen breeches. Her lovely face is marked by a dozen scars, the puckered and ivory marks standing out against her tanned skin. The woman's loose hair is grey-white and falls to the small of her back. The woman carries a slender polished staff, and when she moves it becomes clear that it provides stability to her tottering walk, as well as a sense of style.
Clytemnestra 'Nessie" Dekatos (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449808)
Female LN Grey Elf Beguiler1/Conjurer4/Ultimate Magus1, Level 6, Init 4, HP 25/25, Speed 15
AC 14, Touch 10, Flat-footed 14, Fort 2, Ref 1, Will 9, Base Attack Bonus 2, Power Points 33/34
Sling +2 (1d4+1, x2)
Quarterstaff +3 (1d6+1, x2)
Mage Armour (+4 Armor)
Abilities Str 12, Dex 11, Con 13, Int 22, Wis 12, Cha 14
Condition Mage Armour

[Geeksthenewsexy]

Back stiffening, Victor clears his throat at the woman's attentions. "Yes, well... a simple matter, for a...um, wizard of my... uh calibur, to be sure. But what paltry enchantments could compare to your own enchanting beauty, madam? Surely no arcane magic could compare to the delight of your company or your enchanting smile. But perhaps... " He observes the woman, looking over her, taking special note her jewelry. "Perhaps, we can attempt to enhance perfection, shall we?" Waggling his fingers at the woman intricately, he nods, seeming to peer at the woman's jewelry. Jewelry that now begins to shine and glimmer as if freshly polished. "Aha! Now they shine as surely as your smile, madam."

Feeling the bump of another person, Victor flashes an apologetic smile to the newcomer. "Oh, I'm sure it was my own fault, ma'am. I've been bewitched by this lovely enchantress, and likely did not pay heed to my surroundings." He bows politely. "My sincerest of apologies. I can only plead for mercy on the grounds of my very recent bewitchment."


Using a feat-granted Cantrip to cast Prestidigitation, and using it's polish (http://archive.wizards.com/default.asp?x=dnd/ex/20010707) effect on the noblewoman's shinies to make them shinier.

Bluff: [roll0] to seem like he knows what he's doing and/or give the impression that he's actually doing something that is at all magically impressive/clever.

[Erelamar]

Victor and Kirsch (walking with a group up the Skywalk to Castle Allsatalos)

The grinning noblewoman claps her hands in delight as her jewels sparkle with new life. "As good as the day my husband presented them to me," she says. "Really, I must sack my lady's maid and keep you around!" The nobles laugh along with her...

Lady Nadjiel chuckles gently with the rest, but then continues her conversation with Kirsch, "A Miesener of Miessen? How interesting. I will have to remember that. I am a collector of trivia of sorts. And, not to brag, whenever such is pulled for parlor games, my team always wins." Her smile deepens, though turns questioning as Kirsch continues to speak. "Requested? An invitation? How extraordinary. Why, you ask?" And the elven woman gestures to herself and all the other nobles climbing the Skywalk, of which you have traversed about half.

"None of us have ever received an invitation. To my knowledge, no one has. The parties are announced, and whoever shows up, shows up.

Clytemnestra and Megamax (in the Herbaceous Chamber, 2nd floor)

Red and golden lights shine through the crack in the door monitored by Spycrist. "Well... that's going to get his attention, for sure," he mutters to himself.

At that, Spycrist throws open the door and continue forward into a wide, long wood-paneled library bursting with books up to its vaulted ceiling. Tall ladders on rollers slide across every wall save where more great windows are set: those to the north looking down on the wisteria garden and to the south out over the mountains and the Skywalk where you can just make out a tiny crowd advancing towards Allsatalos.

Spycrist noncommittally mentions, "This's just the guest library. The family one is in the castle's citadel."

The old retainer dodges around leather couches and deep, comfy chairs through the open archway into the next chamber: a sort of combination trophy/game room. Billiards tables, cards tables, and even a skittle alley are scattered around the room. And looming above it all are the stuffed heads of mountainous monsters (behir, peryton, and the like).

Through another open archway and the three of you are on the balcony ringing the Grand Foyer. Peering over the edge, Spycrist seems satisfied and leads you around the northern side of the room, pausing at another archway that looks on the second story landing of the First Hall's grand stairs; they continue yet still higher. Seeing only the backs of a few nobles being led to their rooms down a northward hall, the three of you continue unnoticed.

He takes you to the western wall where a small servant's door is situated. You proceed through it and down a far less grand and narrower hallway, yet still, its north windows look down on the western garden, so different and planned and geometric than the eastern one. It too, though, is boxed in by the edifice of Allsatalos.

Hearing movement from an intersecting corridor, Spycrist opens a side door and has you scuttle inside. It is a small servants' lounge, though even it has breathtaking views through an arrowslit window of the mountain ranges and the Skywalk.

Spycrist closes the door but keeps a listen at it. There is chatter and rattle of dishes. "Yeah, some cooks carrying up dinner to the staff dining hall. They'll be done soon and we'll pass." When he looks back at perhaps the wondering faces of the two magicians, he begins, "I don't want to be seen to be talking with ya, is all. Anyone'll report back to that snow elf, and he's a sharp one. He'll put one and two together and figure you're here because'a me; it'll make him even more ornery than he already is, and I want'cha to get a chance to speak to the Lady without him interfering... What? Oh, that bit about 'because'a me?' Yeah, thing is, the Lady didn't reeeally send any of you them invitations. I did."

Kotoba and Trinity (split between the First Hall and Hot Chocolate Salon)

The gathered elven and human nobles in the western salon off the Grand Foyer look on, impressed by Kotoba and Trinity's display. They even set down their mugs of brandied hot chocolate to clap when it is finished. The aristocrats eagerly accept the golden girl in the black-feathered dress into their little circle.

The salon is warmed by a small fireplace, a window in the north of the room looks out over a courtyard garden: low, geometric, and surrounded by the walls of the castle. A door in the west constantly swings open back and forth as servants bring forth platters of tiny delicious-looking morsels from what is clearly the kitchen beyond.

A bow-legged nobleman and a lady so light and airy she seems to float, both human, are the first to introduce themselves to Trinity. They are Mazlowe Carn and Isabelle of Corg, and they speak almost in unison as if with one voice finishing each other's thoughts, "And what is your name, my dear?" "We just know we've heard of you." "Has to have done work in Sandrine." "Has to..."

As Kotoba has a footman lead him to his guest chamber, he is taken north from the Grand Foyer into the First Hall where two mighty staircases rise up several floors to a distant buttressed ceiling of pastel crystals. A wide, northern corridor on the ground level continues deeper into the citadel of the castle; it is less lit, colder, and more austere than the rest of the rooms. Neither servants nor guests approach it. To the east is a large portico open wide to the wisteria and still ponds and unearthly beautiful grass of the eastern garden.

The servant is making his way to one of the massive staircases when a voice stops him, "YOU." And Kotoba is close enough to see the hair on the back of the footman's neck stand up and hear a faint whisper of "Oh, no... Father Neomund." Seemingly coming from nowhere a pale elf with long, stark white hair and eyes like deep, black pits approaches Kotoba. He is the one who addressed the first party as they entered Allsatalos, the one who warned against wandering. Up this close, one can see that the elf wears a silver medallion around his neck embossed with the image of a horn with seven mouths.

The snow elf walks up to Kotoba, and when the two of you are little more than an arms-length apart, something strikes the magician as deeply wrong. Either it's the way the elf carries himself or something even more subtle, Kotoba feels off: unfocused and unsure of his footing.

"My records show all the entertainers have already arrived..." He looks Kotoba up and down, "Sir. And I do not remember seeing you or your companion here before. I would remember. How have you come to learn of our Event and what is your purpose here? But I will inform you now, there is no solicitation of any kind allowed at Allsatalos."

Again, really long post. But all anyone really needs to read is just their section which I hope makes it more manageable.
Paying attention as you are walking, you don't notice any loss of grandeur at all to Allsatalos. By whatever metric Spycrist is using to gauge Emalia's financial stability, it does not seem to be waning on the surface of things.
Mechanically, the effects of standing next to Father Neomund are: You are on difficult terrain and you cannot cast defensively.

[Metastachydium]

Kirsch spends a few moments basking in the light of this welcome revelation, but that does not make him any less confused. He had no idea why he was called here in the first place and while he is certain of his own importance, he did not expect this much from Lady Emalia. Well, rest assured that I am equally surprised to learn this. It has been a long time since I last spoke to the Lady, I must admit. Kirsch has the vague feeling that this is either a rare opportunity (he knows the rumours about the castle, after all) or barring that, it bodes ill, but he dismisses the thoughts for now, clicking his tongue thouhhtfully instead before continuing. Nevertheless, it might as well make perfect sense: were I the kind Lady, I would not expect that the news of these banquets will reach Miessen on their own either unless certain measures are taken to ensure that much. I am confident that the Lady does not mean to offend the local elite, and at any rate Kirsch pauses shortly, to inspect his right hand again and taps his signet ring with the side of his thumb claw before making an attempt to smoothly change the subject if my position is perhaps enviable, so is yours. Spyre is a blessed tract of land and it is dear to us magicians. The lizard's scales take on an even more radiant hue than before as he puts a subtle emphasis on the last word. It must be wonderful to have easy access to such a magnificent collection of writings as is that which your noble line possesses.

[Ripptor]

https://i.vgy.me/vRJRKl.png (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449194)

Megamax notes Nessie's secret brush-off, and feigns losing interest as she takes another swig from the "good stuff" as Spycrist focuses on the dancing lights. Following him through the library on the mini tour, it's interesting how much pride he seems to be showing off Lady's estate, even while denouncing the wasteful expenses.

Meagan is visibly surprised at Spycrist's sudden admission, then sly at him, "Did you miss us that much, old man? I would still have come if you had asked yourself..." Meagan considers for a second, thinking back to those left back in the entrance hall for the secret rendezvous. "Just how many people did you press into this scheme of yours? Is that old beggar Kotoba part of your play?"

To herself, Meagan admits disappointment that Lady herself did not request her presence. She had been looking forward to their reunion, but not as a surprise party crasher. This complicates things...

Well, now that he's admitted to lying, Megamax is turning her full attention to Spycrist and his answers.

Taking 10 for Sense Motive 20 on a Hunch while they talk, as well as for any potential untruths as he continues his story.

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

The older elf woman, whom had seemed to be getting a kind of spring in her halting step, loses much of that spirit when Meaghan calls her 'Nessy', and she settles again into a placid, aloof mask.

The guest library and games area is of mild interest to Clytemnestra. Mostly in the way it seems to contradict what Spycrist has already said. With more than a thousand volumes, it might be the pride of half of the academies on the continent. And if this is only for guests...

She stumped over to one of the shelves to examine the books, to ascertain if they were real. Then, murmuring a simple detection spell, she scanned the room for any magical devices or effects, especially divinations. Paranoia was one thing, but if this steward was as devious as Spycrist suggested, one could never be too careful. Only once her examination was complete did she turn to speak with the other two.

Clytemnestra also felt a pang of regret when Spycrist revealed that it wasn't Emalia who had invited her. Well, perhaps the past should stay buried in the past after all.

"Madame Megamax offers a salient question. Here's another. What do you think that we'll be able to do for the Lady Emalia now that we ARE here?"

Clytemnestra is testing Spycrist's story by doing a thumbnail assessment of this library's value. Appraise: [roll0]
She then casts Detect Magic and scans the room (and her two companions) for auras. Spellcraft: [roll1]


A tall and imposing looking elven woman is dressed impeccably in a stylish brocade jacket and woolen breeches. Her lovely face is marked by a dozen scars, the puckered and ivory marks standing out against her tanned skin. The woman's loose hair is grey-white and falls to the small of her back. The woman carries a slender polished staff, and when she moves it becomes clear that it provides stability to her tottering walk, as well as a sense of style.
Clytemnestra 'Nessie" Dekatos (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449808)
Female LN Grey Elf Beguiler1/Conjurer4/Ultimate Magus1, Level 6, Init 4, HP 25/25, Speed 15
AC 14, Touch 10, Flat-footed 14, Fort 2, Ref 1, Will 9, Base Attack Bonus 2, Power Points 33/34
Sling +2 (1d4+1, x2)
Quarterstaff +3 (1d6+1, x2)
Mage Armour (+4 Armor)
Abilities Str 12, Dex 11, Con 13, Int 22, Wis 12, Cha 14
Condition Mage Armour

[Erelamar]

Clytemnestra and Megamax (hiding in a Servants' Lounge with Spycrist)

Spycrist rubs his bald head. "I don't know. If'n I knew what to do, I'd have done it myself. Talk to her, I'm guessing. Say something gets her to pause and take this all in; she's a proper lady now, got everything she's always wanted. Sure, the old elf lord passed and she misses him something bad but she's loved before, och—" The old retainer stares at the ground for a moment like he's trying to find something desperately in the stone tiles' grout. "She's just always sprung back is all.

"And now you got that snow elf; who knows what he's up to? And that shark, the Duke, Orville, he's just a'circling. There both tryin' take this place from her, and I'll not be having it." For the first time you notice Spycrist's breathing is somewhat raspy.

At Megamax's querries, he continues, "Kotoba, yeah, too bad he didn't spot us earlier. I'll try to get around to talking to him, too. He may be not much to look at, but him and his ward are of them story-binders from the Southern Badlands. Let's just say, I cast a wide net when I was trying to get a helping hand, better to be over-prepared is all..." In unthinking punctuation to his sentence, Spycrist pulls a second flask from a back pocket and takes a sip from it. When pressed as to just how many invitations he sent out in Lady Emalia's name, his answer comes reluctantly, "Eh, well, forty? Fifty? Thereabouts. Anybody who'd still might have affection for the Lady and could maybe make the trip. I'm surprised I got three though, it's been so long.

"Funny though, of all the different scoundrels and bards, sellswords, and circus folk, only magicians took up the letter's offer."

Kirsch and Victor (in a group traveling the Skywalk nearing the Castle Gates)

"It'll be so nice to have a magician back at Allsatalos," the toothy lady beside Victor says to the crowd. "Don't you think so, Nadjy? What's it been since the steward ran the elf lord's cousin off? Ten months, eleven?"

Lady Nadjiel replies casually, "Twelve, Lilet von Bleak, a whole year." The subtle scolding in using the noblewoman's full name sans title in reply to her cutesy nickname is not lost on either magician.

Lady Lilet gives a slight harrumph but grins through it still. She continues to anyone who will listen, "That is, the late elf lord's younger cousin, much younger. Gods, he was like a ghost, so ethereal he kind of glowed—the late elf lord that is. I was at their wedding. It was very select, very hush-hush, so naturally, everybody was talking about it. But the younger cousin, gods, what was his name? Maybe you know him, Victor, he trained at the... what's it called, the, the... Incrementon! in Gleam. He was the official castle wizard at Allsatalos for decades before his cousin's death. Then I guess, things became too unpleasant for him and he packed up his bags and his apprentices and took off. I wonder where he went, I'm sure I knew at one point..."

At the front of the column, Kirsch and Nadjiel's conversation is much less audible than that of the guffawing Lady Lilet's at the rear. Even still, the elven noble casually points over her shoulder at the spectacle. "She is not wrong," Nadjiel confides to Kirsch. "Father Neomund, the chief steward, continually made things more difficult for the castle's wizard until he got fed up and left: interrupting his sleep with important messages, demanding he is full up on construction spells prepared for renovations but then put it off day after day because the architects failed to arrive; a long list of petty annoyances which deprived the cousin of research and sleep. From what I've gathered, he took a teaching position at the Incrementon, his alma mater. Of course, Father Neomund wouldn't like any magician being as he is a member of the Tolerance."

So, just what all of you know off the bat based on your intelligence scores: The Incrementon is THE School of Magic in Eldwizand. It is stuffy, traditional, and elitest. Its associated arcane order (The Brotherhood of Pragmatic Incrementalists) can trace its roots back almost a thousand years, to the earliest days after the disappearance of the Conclave of Wizards. It has little in the way of rivalry besides the training grounds in the Valley of Fire, which has its own issues, and the University of Scarthey in Sandrine (a far more egalitarian and free-thinking academy). Based on the PCs' backstories and/or temperaments, none of you studied at the Incrementon.
The Tolerance is a hundred-year-old order of monastic knights seen on every continent and sea. Little is known of their faith, precepts, or purpose—there are hints it is a dire one. They seemingly act with impunity in most sovereign lands, and they do not like magicians. As to how or why, few are willing to say.
This information will be added to OOC second post in time, as it gets fleshed out by knowledge checks and the like.

[Metastachydium]

Kirsch doesn't mind much that his compliments ended up ignored (even though he hoped for something like an invitation to the famed library). He's not here to do small talk, after all and the presence of the Tolerance in Allsatalos is important news. The Tolerance, you say? I was about to ask how the man acquired that honorific. the smile shortly disappears from the lizard's face. This sounds worrisome. I sure hope he has the manners and basic common sense not to pester the Lady's noble guests as well. he adds with a dry laugh. Anyhow, I wonder why a man of the Tolerance would elect to serve as a provincial steward of all things. he muses realising only too late that he probably shouldn't have added provincial. How would you riddle this, if I may ask?


Concerning Lilet von Bleak:
Knowledge (nobility and royalty) [roll0]

Concerning the Tolerance:
Knowledge (history) [roll1]
Knowledge (religion) [roll2]
Knowledge (local) (what is their status in the Alliance?) [roll3]

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

"May we sit and chat here? We are not, to the best of my ability to tell, observed."

Clytemnestra lowers herself carefully into a chair, and keeps one hand on her staff.

"It might have been more effective to come to us, rather than drawing in old, um, friends with false pretenses. But it seems clear that your heart is in the right place."

She takes a deep breath, trying to order her thoughts, and looks up at Meaghan. She wasn't clear how close she had been with Emalia, or where her allegiances might lie now, but now seemed as good a time as any for a leap of faith.

"Duke Orbal I know a bit -" She turns to Megamax with a wry smile. "- if only by reputation. I suppose I should be flattered that you think it would be otherwise. But I am assuming that his interest is primarily financial, since he stands to lose his wealth and power when his son comes of age."

She turned back to Spycrist. "What else can you tell us about this Father Neomund. Is he actually a priest, or is that an affectation. Of what faith? How long has he been in Emalia's service. Has anyone checked to see if his influence on her is more than spiritual? By which I mean, might she be under some kind of magical influence from him?"

She waits for Spycrist to expand as he sees fit, and then launches into a new line of inquiry.

"Given the prevalence of magic in my culture, it is both striking and unusual that there are no magicians here in Emalia's household. Is this happenstance, some sort of precondition connected to Allsatalos, Emalia's decree, or have any wizards simply been run off? Or...something beyond my rather limited imagination?"

She paused, her thoughts exhausted for the moment. She turns to Megamax.

"I believe I'll have that drink now, if you're still offering."




A tall and imposing looking elven woman is dressed impeccably in a stylish brocade jacket and woolen breeches. Her lovely face is marked by a dozen scars, the puckered and ivory marks standing out against her tanned skin. The woman's loose hair is grey-white and falls to the small of her back. The woman carries a slender polished staff, and when she moves it becomes clear that it provides stability to her tottering walk, as well as a sense of style.
Clytemnestra 'Nessie" Dekatos (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449808)
Female LN Grey Elf Beguiler1/Conjurer4/Ultimate Magus1, Level 6, Init 4, HP 25/25, Speed 15
AC 14, Touch 10, Flat-footed 14, Fort 2, Ref 1, Will 9, Base Attack Bonus 2, Power Points 33/34
Sling +2 (1d4+1, x2)
Quarterstaff +3 (1d6+1, x2)
Mage Armour (+4 Armor)
Abilities Str 12, Dex 11, Con 13, Int 22, Wis 12, Cha 14
Condition Mage Armour

[Geeksthenewsexy]

"Of course, I...um... run off, you say?" Grimacing at the explanation as to why, he remarks dryly, "My, a year without a magician at hand... how dreadfully dull that must be." Flashing a pearly-white smile, Victor tucks his cane under his arm and wiggles his fingers and a gold coin slips from his pocket to float lazily in front of him above the dramatically splayed palm of his off-hand. Worn and dented, the coin looks much like any other. Snapping his fingers dramatically, the coin starts to spin in place above his palm. Tiny spinning runes form in the air around the coin before sinking into it and disappearing. Immediately its shape warps and bends, twisting itself into a gold ring, smooth and polished. Glancing at Lady Lilet as the ring continues to spin above his palm and muses wistfully, "How does one entertain one's self without magic, I wonder?" Fingers continuing to wiggle lazily, the ring slowly bobs and dances above his palm before reshaping itself back into a coin - although retaining its new polish, much like Lady Lilet's jewelry.

As fit for a faux magician, he's milking his hour of Prestidigitation for all its worth. Now making successive use of the Lift, Sketch, Change, and Polish options.
Lift - Lift the coin up and have it slowly spin, bob, dance, etc.
Sketch - Tiny nonsense runes drawn and released upon contact with the coin.
Change - Coin -> Ring -> Coin
Polish - As advertised

[Ripptor]

http://i.vgy.me/waS64S.png (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449194)

Megamax's shoulders relax as she leans forward towards Spycrist. "All right, old man. I'm in. As long as it stays in Lady's best interest." Her sad smile turning wry, she shrugs nonchalantly. "Leastwise, until Mother Enbach's goons catch wind that I'm here, and I cause more trouble than I'm worth."

"I won't be dragged back into the Red Coven, but I won't make that Lady's problem again, either. I'll be Mother's Circle Battery before I let Lady get hurt helping me a second time." At Clytemnestra's suggestion, Meagan waves her servant pull her out a lavish chair as well, sitting gratefully across the table. Despite leaning on the servant, her breath comes slightly shallow as she recovers from the long walk, listening on Duke Orbal's affairs from the deep cushions.

Sounds like the old Duke is looking for a more comfortable retirement. Perhaps in Lady's arms? Baubie supplements, tucked safe in her four-dimensional pocket. Meagan keeps her face steady as she sends back, Even here, I find myself surrounded by the sentiments and schemes of old age... Do remind me to die young.

You'll find a way, even should I find a way to stay silent on the matter. Meagan and her mini-dragon share a silent bloom of mental mirth.

As Clytemnestra drills in on Father Neomund, Meagan snaps at a candle on the table, lighting a small flame on the wick. The honorific "Father" causes Megamax to instantly worry about the icy elf... It reeks of overbearing paternalism at the expense of the so-called "Family". If Spycrist's hunch is right, she would be more than happy to see Lady away from a false parent of her own. Clytemnestra catches Meagan staring into the dancing candle as her questioning stops, snapping her out as the demon girl gladly shares the bottle with her. Good to know she'll share some drink with her.

Meagan grows weary of all these elders and their schemes... But Spycrist can be an exception.

He should count himself lucky she can read him so well as to trust him this much :smallbiggrin:

[Erelamar]

Clytemnestra and Megamax (with Spycrist in Servant's Lounge, 2nd story)

Spycrist hands his spare flask to Clytemnestra at the first mention of drink. Then he slouches into a simple chair, staring at the bare wooden table in thought. "I canna quite remember what they said the snow elf's religion be. He doesn't talk about it much. Doesn't spend any time in the castle chapel neither. He's been here forever, I reckon, eighty-ninety years or more. He and his people, och, the medallion: he wears a silver medallion with a trumpet with seven horns, openings, where the sound comes out, you know what I mean..." He waits to see if that holds any significance, and it does for Clytemnestra: The Tolerance, and while Megmax didn't immediately connect the symbol with the order, she too, is familiar with the name. "Aye, that sounds right. Him and his people made a deal with the late elf lord way back when. I don't know the terms, I don't guess anybody here does except maybe Neomund. Probably written down somewhere though.

"I do know the elf lord trusted him more than about anyone. Said, 'He's got the castle's best interests at heart.' But, of course, he was practically a spectre by then he was so old. One moment he'd be in the present, the next he'd be talking like it was two-hundred years ago. Like his brain was dancing through his entire lifetime."

At the talk of wizards at Allsatalos, Spycrist says, "Aye, the late elf lord's cousin was the court magician here, he had a couple students, too. Had been for a time I'd gathered." Spycrist threw a thumb over his shoulder back east the way they had come, "You take that first spiral staircase all the way to the top of the tower, it's his old room. Locked down now, I figure.

"He took off a couple months after the elf lord died. Father Neomund was giving him a fit, pointless chores, waking him up all hours of the night to ask simple questions about whatever, I can't remember they were so pointless. Eventually, the cousin got tired of it, took his students, and left. Can't remember where to... So, when you be wondering, Nessie, if Neomund got some kind of spell on the Lady. I don't think so, I don't think he wants any magicians, er, at least true magicians, in the castle at all. First chance he got, he ran off one that he'd been living under the same roof with for decades."

A quartet of horns echo down the servants' corridor, rattling the wooden door to the lounge where the old retainer and the two magicians rest. "Och, that's another group of guests. We'd better be getting the two of you to your rooms before the good ones are all snatched up."

Victor and Kirsch

Before Lady Nadjiel can reply to Kirsch's first question, Lilet von Bleak speaks up over the wind in answer, "Neomund does not give a flying fart who or what you are! If you run afoul of him, go where he says not to, he'll evict you without batting an eye. Remember? Remember when Baron whatshisface and his friend broke into the wine cellar after it died down one night—you know, grab a few bottles and keep the party going, that sort of thing? Neomund caught them, and sans cape or coat he threw them out the front gates onto the Skywalk; said 'they had exactly one minute before he'd reach the controls to turn the Skywalk to mist, so their lordships had better run!' What a cad!" And the grinning noblewoman can not stop laughing.

"Again, all true," confirms Lady Nadjiel. "Though he gave them a little longer than one minute to make it to the end of the Skywalk." As to Kirsch's second query, "Oh, I think if you put your mind to it, it doesn't seem strange at all. The Tolerance has an affinity for very old things, and Allsatalos is very old, indeed." Lady Nadjiel shares a sideways smile with Kirsch. "Were certain stories about the castle true, I would imagine they would be quite keen on having an agent here to oversee things. One might even think, the presence of just such an agent would lend those stories a new air of credibility, perhaps?"

As Victor continues to thrill Lady Lilet with his prestidigitation, she says, "See? Why can't more magicians be like you, Victor? Take a little more joy in the, well, the magic of their magic? Don't get me wrong, I think they all can be great fun, but you can just tell it's so humdrum for them is all. It's like pulling teeth to get so much as a little pyrotechnics out of them."

Your noble party and baggage train arrive before the grand edifice of Allsatalos' southern walls. The vibrant pinks and purples as seen from the distance appear duller when up close, the smooth stone, more coarse. The gates are already thrown wide and the footmen leading you fan out and turn, raising their horns they trumpet your arrival in unison. Together you enter the Grand Foyer, marble walls climbing to a high balcony ringing the chamber. Warmth and the smell of chocolate and alcohol and the chatter of idle conversation seep from the open doors to the west. A line of liveried servants await.

A tall, pale elf with stark white hair is conversing with an ill-dressed human in the First Hall beyond the great archway to the north. When the horns blow, the elf turns deep, black eyes upon the new arrivals and waving his hand dismisses the other fellow and stalks forward... to greet you. "Gird your loins, newcomers," Lilet von Bleak says in an uncharacteristically low tone, though still with a chuckle.

"Welcome to Allsatalos, honored guests," the pale elf begins in a preprepared monotone, his livery marking him as a servant of high station. "On behalf of Lady Emalia we are happy to receive you to our festiv—" His gaze settles on the lizardfolk and Victor. "—ities. These men will take you to your rooms, and, if you need, warmth, over there." He distractedly gestures to the western salon off the Grand Foyer.

Your company breaks up and you both notice several of the nobles make a point to step around the pale elf, not coming within an arms-length of him. The question of if this is out of deference or something else is quickly answered because he steps right up to Kirsch and Victor. Once he is so close, the magicians notice a strange, unpleasant sensation. You're no longer so sure of your footing and your mind feels unfocused.

"Well, we certainly have our share of new faces at Allsatalos, today. I am Father Neomund, chaplain and chief steward here, and while I do know the rest of the guests, I am afraid I cannot place either of you, my lords. May I have your names, please, for the castle register?"

The unease you feel as to your focus and footing does not abate with time. It persists, and proximity to Neomund is clearly its source.

Spycrist's description of the late elf lord is not suspicious. It's basically what happens to old elves as they approach death, becoming more ethereal and recalling their long lives in impressive detail. It can lead to confusion. The elf lord would have had to have been at least 500-600 years old around the time of his death.

Both of your characters know the previous information I gave in my last post about the Tolerance. Anything further would require a number of Knowledge checks (history/local/religion). If you wish to make them.

If you want (and have no further questions at the moment), I can handwave the trip to your rooms with a minor description. Spycrist will tell you you're already pretty close to the guest suites in the west wing of the castle. And you're on the right floor already.
Mechanically, the effects your characters are experiencing are the following: you're standing in difficult terrain and you cannot cast defensively.

[Metastachydium]

Much as I appreciate your warning, Lady Lilet, I can fly if I choose to. the lizard retorts with a sharp, almost hostile tone. He does make a mental note to keep preparing either Feather Fall or Gaseous Form in the following days as well, however. This could get unpleasant quite quickly. At any rate, this could be one of those rare situations where he would deem that Athanas could fare better than himself – Neomund might be more lenient with his own kind, after all, although at this point he doubts that.
Upon hearing Lady Nadjiel's explanation for the „blessed” Father's presence, Kirsch nods and looks away for a moment, as if to watch the scenery, a strange expression of excitement appearing on his face. Perhaps. he says at last. Needless to say, I have heard the rumours and speculations concerning the kind Lady's residence, but I gave little credit to them. Neomund's interest in the place might, however, be telling indeed. It would fit the usual modus operandi of the Tolerance: their current headquarters come to mind. the lizard replies to the elven lady with feigned disinterest. This is it, then. It is true. It is here. Kirsch is about to explode from the joy that fills him. He reminds himself that he must tread carefully, nevertheless. The gate has a guardian. But then, this might of course jut be a strange coincidence. he adds, making a nonchalant waving motion with his right hand.


♣

As Kirsch strolls into the Grand Foyer with infinite grace, Pterygs, who's been circling above the skywalk all along swoops down and darting through the gate she lands beside Kirsch. Kirsch flashes a (this time genuine) smile at his familiar and then takes a few more steps before dramatically striking the ground with his walking stick and raising it up in the air. At first, nothing happens, but then the lizard taps the tiles impatiently with his tail and Innte rushes forward to gently take the walking stick from his hand. Satisfied, he folds his arms behind his scaly back and bidding a quick farewell to Lady Nadjiel, he begins to roam deeper into the hall, only to walk straight into Neomund. So this is the man. he thinks, trying to overcome the strange sensation the proximity of Neomund brought about with a somewhat pained but knowing smile on his face. I see, I see. I know who you are and I know what you are, Father. He forces the previous, serene expression back onto his face and meets the elf's gaze with unblinking orange eyes before speaking out loud. Greetings, Father! That is a reasonable expectation. I am Lord Kirsch son of Kirsch of Likhten's Line. A nobleman of Miessen, as you could, no doubt, tell. Kirsch taps his chest with an open palm again, making sure that his signet ring with the line's coat-of-arms is clearly visible.

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

Clearly unhappy but accepting Spycrist's words, Clytemnestra samples and returns his flask without comment or obvious reaction to the strong drink.

"The Tolerance? That might explain a little of Neomund's actions here, but not all. I have many more questions, Spycrist, both about Emalia, and about how you've been yourself. I have too few old friends not to find time with them when I can. But we should let you return to your duties, and I should get cleaned up from the road."

She glances over at Megamax.

"Shall we adjourn to our rooms?"

I'm good to pause the conversation here and fast forward through going to our rooms. I feel like we need to give the others a chance to catch up.

In the meantime, though, does Clytemnestra know anything more about the Tolerance? Or about Neomund's seven-horned medallion?
Know arcana: [roll0]
Know local: [roll1]
Know history: [roll2]

[Ripptor]

http://i.vgy.me/waS64S.png (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449194)

At hearing that the Tolerance was involved, Megamax gave a displeased shudder. Mages hating mages, hunting them, even killing them in the shadows... The sight of a Tolerance Templar was enough to scare anyone magically inclined.

Of course, the presence of the Tolerance gives credence to the rumors of a connection to the Tracery... At the cost of yet one more obstacle in her path, in the name of "preservation".

Even Meagan's Red Coven birthright will only shield her so far from the usually confrontational sect, though they'll at least hesitate to offend her. Probably. Or, they'll just score some political points with Mother Enbach by gift-wrapping us, nice and tight. Baubie somehow grunts internally.

Megamax gratefully takes Clytemnestra's suggestion. "Truly, this has been so much, all at once. Lets us continue this, later." Meagan reaches into midair for her servant's hand, helping lift her out of the (very deep) chair to follow them to their rooms.

Behind them, the flame continues it's dance on the candle, left to it's own devices.

Happy to fast-forward and get everyone on the same footing :smallsmile:

[Geeksthenewsexy]

Smiling, nodding, and making appropriate 'I'm totally interested in what you're saying - yes, truly' noises as the women gossip, Victor waves dismissively at his coin and it floats over and drops into his pocket once more.

"Ah, well that is because until now we had no occasion to meet. Victor Lustig, at your service sir steward. Graduate of the Acadamy and humble purveyor of arcane magics but currently and much more recently - as in just now as I arrive here, in fact - visitor of my fond acquaintance, Lady Emalia. Having requested my presence, what sort of gentleman can deny a lady such a gracious request, yes? Despite the long and arduous journey at no small risk to myself, I must add. Bandits and highwaymen, you see. Indeed, just so." Nodding with an absentminded middle-of-the-distance stare over the man's shoulder, as if the matter was now settled and he was looking for someone or something, he tips his hat jauntily to the steward. Suddenly feigning mild surprise and raising a hand towards a group of other people and smiling rakishly as if someone familiar had called out to him, Victor begins meandering around and away from the stewart in their direction, deftly and smoothly switching his cane to his dominant hand as he begins moving.


False Reputation (Ex): Every good charlatan knows that her reputation must precede her. Spreading tales of her greatness far and wide, she creates the facade of her legendary stature as a spellcaster. Anyone inquiring after the charlatan with a bardic knowledge, Gather Information, or Knowledge check turns up false tales; gossip, and specific "facts" which corroborate her claim to greatness unless the check result exceeds the DC by 10 or more.
B̶a̶m̶b̶o̶o̶z̶l̶e̶ Bluff: [roll0] - to make his 'escape' excuse believable enough to get away from the man without seeming to be trying to... well... get away from the man.

[Erelamar]

Clytemnestra and Megamax (Servants' Lounge to Guest Suites)

"Good, good. Gives everyone a little break." Spycrist nods and stands and goes to the door, cracking it open and checking the corridor. Satisfied, he opens the door and holds it for the magicians as they exit the servants' lounge, closing it again behind them.

Spycrist takes the lead, scuttling along the empty hallway which quickly turns north as you enter the west wing of the castle. There is the smell of roasted meat and crusty bread along with the clamor of people and plates. A droning voice reads aloud a list of duties: spare linens which need to be washed, polishing the fine knives and forks for the banquet's dinner service tomorrow night, the grand ballroom floor needs scouring (followed with a chorus of groans), etc. Spycrist ushers you past the closed door from where all this loud commotion is leaking.

During your trip, you've seen two more of the tight spiral staircases built into the walls. The first both ascends (likely into the southwestern, corner tower of the castle) and descends. The second merely takes you back down to the ground level, and Spycrist waves that one away as leading to the servants' bunks, offices, and the dungeon. Finally, the corridor cuts west a bit more and you leave behind the windows looking out over the orderly, geometric courtyard garden. It dead-ends in a door, which Spycrist peeks out, then leads you through.

This new north-south running hallway is again grand and marble-walled with a thick red runner along the floor. Tall, narrow windows look west out over a sheer thousand-foot drop to the Titanspire Mountains lining the horizon. There is a door immediately to the south where this new hall terminates, and the old retainer informs you it is the spa.

Going north, you hear voices from far up ahead where the way turns back east: nobles laughing and talking, servants lugging bags. Spycrist brings you both to the first two sets of doors. Taking the key out of the lock from both and handing one to each of the magicians. "These are pretty good suites, if'n I remember. When you're ready to get back to the party, just follow this here hall north, and it'll wrap you back 'round to the First Hall with the big stairs. The Lady's likely to appear in the Grand Meeting Hall at seven-ish? That's what..." He looks out the window, gauging the setting sun. "Three hours, thereabouts? We might not get to talking again before you see her, so I'll just say good luck. I got faith in the both of you to come up with something, smart-as-whips you are... I'll try and see if I can put Kotoba or any others that might've showed up in those rooms." He points to the door across from Clytemnestra's suite and to another eastside room down the hall. With that, he bobs his head, and hurries to the servant's door and disappears back the way you came.

Both are laid out a bit differently, but basically, they are suites of partitioned chambers: sitting areas, dining nooks, and washrooms. Each sleeping area has an enormous four-poster bed, teak wardrobes, and dressing tables. Fine elven-made wicker baskets hold soaps, oils, and lotions. A braided rope hanging from a hole in the wall bears a plaque with the words, Pull for Service in both Common and Elvish. Both of your rooms' east-facing windows look out over the western courtyard garden.
Kirsch and Victor (with Neomund in the Grand Foyer)

Father Neomund steps aside as Victor briskly walks away to the larger gathering of nobles in the western salon. The steward does not see to whom the magician hails, and in fact, does not take the trouble to even see if Victor actually enters that room or swerves to have a servant lead him to his guest suite; none of that bothers Neomund, instead...

Kirsch watches as the snow elf before him seemingly stares off into space for a moment, clearly in thought. Then he says but one word, "Requested?" He turns back and lets his gaze settle first on Ptergys then it shifts back to scaly magician.

"And you, Lord Kirsch, son of Kirsch of Likhten's Line, of Miessen, did someone request your attendance at our little event, too?" Father Neomund studies the noble lizardman with a hawkish intensity every bit the equal of Ptergys'.

[Metastachydium]

Tell the elf that I don't like him. Pterygs says grumpily when the steward begins to eye her and Kirsch. The magician ignores her comment for the moment, hiding his annoyance over Victor's ill-conceived boasting with a pleasant smile. That pompous buffoon should learn when to keep his mouth shut. he thinks to himself before addressing Neomund. Why, you seem somewhant tense, Father. Worry not! Victor Lustig is a harmless man and I am reasonably certain that none requested that he present himself here, least of all the kind Lady. Kirsch defiantly returns the steward's gaze, not letting himself intimidated. Neomund might be of the Tolerance, but he is a nobleman with powers that the elf had better fear and envy. As for myself, I deem that it would serve no purpose to try and conceal that I am an old acquaintance of the Lady's and that she would occasionally contact me: in fact, I received a letter from her a few weeks ago that did make mention of this banquet – you could call that an invitation, I suppose. With that in mind, paying a visit to her hardly strikes me as improper, and this little excursion might prove as fruitful as it is to be pleasant: I have wished to see the great library of Spyre for quite some time now, and it is within, so to say, arm's reach now – I presume you appreciate that as a learned man. But I digress. the lizard's polite smile widens somewhat as he elegantly steps back a little. Now, I hope I succeeded in satisfying your curiosity, Father, for I must excuse myself. I would love to refresh myself before the Lady graces us with her presence. Kirsch turns to leave with Pterygs and the servants (who've been patiently waiting a few steps away for their lord to finish his conversation) in tow. Speaking of, when would that be due?

[Geeksthenewsexy]

After meandering away from the steward and his pointed questions, Victor keeps meandering, beaming at people with a delighted smile, throwing out the occasional pithy greeting such as, "Ah, It's good to see you, how was your journey - not too arduous, I hope?", "Oh, I'm so delighted you could attend - it wouldn't be the same without you, truly.", and "My gods, you haven't aged a day! You really must share your secrets with the rest of us." all while keeping in motion, never actually taking part in any real conversations. Leaving slightly confused people wondering where the man might know him from and was he talking to them or someone near them...? He doesn't stay in any one place long enough to ascertain that, though - seemingly always on his way to talk to someone else (though it is hard to tell who, exactly), but more than polite enough to show absolute delight in having seen them. Or someone near them? It's difficult to tell, actually...


Goal: If enough people in the same place think that everyone else knows you, more people will be inclined to play into the assumption that they know you too because no one likes to feel/look stupid or uninformed - especially in high society.
S̶c̶h̶m̶o̶o̶z̶e̶ Bluff Check: [roll0] In case it's needed (let me know if/when you want more than 1 roll).

[Erelamar]

Kirsch (being escorted to his guest suite)

"Around seven o'clock in the Grand Meeting Hall. I am sure, no one will miss her entrance." The snow elf reluctantly steps aside to let Kirsch pass. "One more thing, Lord Kirsch: guests at Allsatalos are to confine themselves between their suites, this southern wing, and the corridors in-between. Anywhere else you may wish to go, you will be escorted. The castle is very old. It is easy to become lost, and there are many locked doors which are locked for good reason."

Kirsch and his escorts leave the steward behind and venture deeper into Allsatalos, but not before overhearing Father Neomund begin grilling one of the loitering footmen, "Did one of you take them up? Who? Who? The girl with the horns and the scar-faced elf." There are some noncommital grunts, and the snow elf turns in a huff and walks off down the hallway leading east from Grand Foyer.

Through the northern archway, the magician enters the First Hall where two mighty staircases rise up several floors to a distant buttressed ceiling of pastel crystals. To the east is a large portico open to a courtyard garden of wisteria and still ponds and unearthly beautiful grass. A wide, northern corridor on the ground level continues deeper into the citadel of the castle; it is less lit, colder, and more austere than anything previously encountered. Neither servants nor guests approach it.

A liveried servant snaps to at the mention of Kirsch's guest suite. He leads the magician's party up one wide flight of stairs to the first landing where there are a set of grand double doors and two hallways leading north into the citadel. A balustrade to the east looks out over the same wisteria garden, and an archway to the south leads to the balcony above the Grand Foyer.

Your guide takes the western northbound corridor, the windows looking down on a different, more geometric courtyard garden. You pass another set of grand doors and yet another more curious still, a metal door seemingly fused shut entirely. Its once impressive built-in lock completely melted over to show no signs of a keyhole.

At the corner where the hallway turns left and you would enter the west wing of the castle, another servant comes running up behind you. "Ahem, ahem. Pardon, pardon me, yes thank you, pardon me," the young human man says, bowing in turn to Kirsch, his porters, and even Pterygs. He places a folded letter into the guide's hand, whispering to him, "From the old, bald one." Then bowing again to everyone, scurries back the way he came.

Your guide reads the letter, seems a bit surprised. Looks at Kirsch, looks back at the letter, then folds it and slips it into his pocket. He apologizes for the interruption and offers to continue on your way. Despite passing many doors still bearing keys in their locks, he takes Kirsch all the way to the end of the hall, turning left back south where the windows now look out to the east over the Titanspine Mountains. He, at last, bring you to the single western chamber, which through the windows you can see enters a turret projecting from the wall of the castle, suspended over the thousand-foot drop to the valley far below.

"This is not one of our grandest suites, I'm afraid, my lord. There, uh, seems to be a shortage. But after you have settled in, someone can take your attendants down to find lodging with the castle's servants. They will be but a rope-pull away," he offers, throwing up the doors to the room and handing Kirsch the key.

One massive round chamber with a sitting area, enormous four-poster bed, teak wardrobes, and dressing tables. A five-section screen to one side provides privacy for changing clothes and ablutions. A braided rope hanging from a hole in the wall bears a plaque with the words, Pull for Service in both Common and Elvish. A dozen windows give a breathtaking panoramic view of the valley and Titanspine Mountains.

Victor (mingling in the Western Salon)

The salon is warmed by a small fireplace, a window in the north of the room looks out over a courtyard garden: low, geometric, and surrounded by the walls of the castle. A door in the west constantly swings open back and forth as servants bring forth platters of tiny delicious-looking morsels from what is clearly the kitchen beyond.

Victor manages to whip up a minor whirlwind of fascination about himself, bamboozling a fair share of nobles in the process until one shiny, bejeweled arm hooks his. "This is the one I was telling you about!" says Lady Lilet tugging Victor to come face-to-face with a bow-legged aristocrat and his airy female companion. Unlike the others, when he attempts to slip away, Lilet von Bleak holds on a little tighter, and says through her toothy grin, "You're not talking to anybody."

She presents the two standing before the magician, "Victor, this is Mazlowe Carn and Isabelle of Corg, my longtime friends. Listen you two, this one here is the real deal. Not those showmen Emalia brings in, but a real wizard. He graduated from the Incrementon!" which is followed by ooohs and aaahs.

Mazlowe and Isabelle speak as if they share the same brain, finishing each other thoughts, "My-my, did you come all the way from Gleam?" "Well, he must have, look how sharply he is dressed." "Oh, I've so wanted to go to the City of Embassies but how does one find the time?" "One doesn't, you know. Hard enough to get to Sandrine twice a year." "Tell us, how was your trip? Which road did you take?" "Were you on one of my barges, old sport? Really, the first-class cabins make all the difference."

As Victor attempts to answer the hailstorm of questions, Lady Lilet is looking over his shoulder back into the Grand Foyer, perhaps a little upward. "I say, what is that bald gaffer doing?" Victor sees nothing strange at first but then following Lilet's gaze upward to the balcony above the Grand Foyer, he sees Spycrist—Lady Emalia's old retainer—at the railing. He doesn't seem to be doing anything, just looking over the crowd nonchalantly. "I swear he was trying to get my attention just a moment ago."

The pair of aristocrats immediately gush forth words once more, "Oh, him? Strange one, isn't he?" "He's Lady Emalia's from, wherever it is she's from." "Follows her around like a dog, really." "We should any of us be so lucky as to have a servant like that. Did I ever tell you about my old Cecil, worked for my father before me..."

Mazlowe and Isabelle manage to distract Lady Lilet away from Spycrist and at that moment only Victor is observing him and, without looking directly the magician's way, he makes certain subtle gestures: points toward the swinging door to the kitchen, climbing something, then covers his eyes. With that, the aged cohort does look straight at Victor, expectantly, then walks off out of sight.

Spycrist is having something of a time navigating Kirsch and Victor's spot modifiers. :smallconfused:
Even with a poor roll, Victor does fool the majority of nobles. Just not Lady Lilet, who for the first time, your character may begin to believe she's a bit more shrewd than she lets on. As to the Incrementon, whether she misheard you, or is confused, or is trying to upsell you to her friends is up in the air.

If you want, before you post you can roll a Sense Motive check in the OOC and I can maybe give you a better understanding of what Spycrist is pantomiming.
While Megamax is too busy to notice, Clytemnestra likely hears talking in the hallway outside her suite.

[Metastachydium]

Spycrist is having something of a time navigating Kirsch and Victor's spot modifiers. :smallconfused:

Did you factor in the +5 from Kirsch having a hawk familiar close by?

Kirsch nods along appreciatively as the steward answers his question; when Neomund adds his little comment, however, he stiffens somewhat and a quick, excited chill runs along his spine. He has to take a conscious effort to steady his breath. If it hasn't been wholly evident up to this point, it is now. This confirms the idle gossip of the ladies. The elf is hiding something, or rather the castle is. Thank you, Father. I shall keep that in mind. he says with a courteous tone, and with that he takes his leave, folding his arms behind his back again. When the sounds of Neomund's chastising a servant reach his earholes, his scales darken for a second before regaining their brilliant lustre. He needs the guardian at ease. This nervosity might work against him and whoever the elf referred to might very well be competition, and indeed a more worrisome one than Lustig.


♣

As he is lead through the halls and corridors, pleasing as he finds them to the eye, the lizard pays little attention to the lofty decorations, the garden or the scenery visible through the windows, focusing on taking a mental note of anything less usual, such as the dimly lit, empty corridor and especially the strange, melted door. He will have to figure out where the wine cellar would be as well – it might be of interest if Neomund didn't want people to delve into it, but that can wait. For now, he must not get any more intrusive than absolutely necessary.


♣

When the clumsy, noisy servant catches up with the group, Kirsch lets out a barely audible, irritated snort. The man must be new to the job or improperly trained. Pterygs, on the other hand, is alot more satisfied with this turn of events: she radiates pride when the servant bows to her (Why can't everyone have such beautiful manners as that? she wonders out loud).
The mysterious sender of the latter does catch the lizard's attention as well, nevertheless, as does the surprise on his guide's face as he goes through the message. A knight of the Tolerance. A girl with horns. A scar-faced elf. The old, bald one. Lustig, and who knows who else. This little play is beginning to have a slight bit too many actors with unclear roles for his taste.


♣

Upon reaching his room-to-be, Kirsch unfolds his arm, and takes the key from their guide, taking care not to touch his hand. That is certainly understandable, if unfortunate, given the scale of this event. That could be as straightforward as that, but the row of seemingly empty rooms they've just passed by, the mysterious message gives him some pause. The lizard tacitly curses himself for not preparing Detect Magic today and stares intently into the face of the guide for a second, hoping he could, perhaps, intuit the meaning of this before entering the room and walkig across to a window opposite to the entrance to look out while Innte and Harel deposit his bag, walking stick and crossbow inside the chamber. Once the noises of their going about that business die down, the magician turns around to see Pterygs happily perched atop one of the bed's posts and the two servants standing blank-faced by the door, with straight backs and slightly bowed heads. It is possible that I shall have need of you, sooner than later. Stay ready, stay sharp. he tells the two, dismissing them with lazy gesture of his clawed left hand. My Lord. Innte and Harel bow themselves and retreat through the door. Now alone, the lizard thoughtfully sinks into an armchair (which, to his annoyance, is somewhat large for him) and looks up to his familiar. You've been ignoring me ever since we've reached that bridge thing. Is this some ploy again? Pterygs asked, her tone making clear that she's merely curious rather than angry. Yes, Pterygs, it was a deliberate move on my part. Kirsch answers, inspecting his right-hand claws again. Cool. And what's next on our agenda? Pterygs flaps her wings excitedly. For now, we wait.


Sense Motive check for when the guide tells Kirsch that all the good rooms are taken: [roll0]d

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

Clytemnestra pauses to pull Spycrist in for a hug, then nods more formally.

"I'll look forward to an opportunity for a more expansive catch-up later."

Pausing by her door, she turns back to Megamax.

"I'll need just a few minutes to unpack and prepare to rejoin the group. I would feel more comfortable doing so in the company of one of your social graces. Would that be acceptable to you, Meaghan?"

If Megamax is willing to wait, Clytemnestra will need just a few minutes to change into her party clothes, Prestidigitize everything clean and fresh again, and head back to the party. She's not over-much worried about sweeping her room for weirdness, figuring that she can do that later.

Clytemnestra will pull the pull for service rope as soon as she finds it, both to find out the response time of servants here, and to request a wake-up call for seven in the morning.

[Ripptor]

https://i.vgy.me/vRJRKl.png (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449194)
Seeing Clytemnestra hug Spycrist makes Megamax blush slightly, then turn her head away. Looking into at her own room, she spies some lotions and oils and immediately agrees with Clytemnestra's suggestion.

"Yes, lets us settle in and then rejoin the others, together. A bit of brandied hot cocoa is quite called for after that skywalk." Meagan wanders inside to collect herself after the journey and the conversation.

Going to unpack + get ready, then jump back into the hot-cocoa-clubroom, if we have time!

[Geeksthenewsexy]

At Lilet's quiet comment, Victor murmurs softly to her through teethed pressed together in a wide smile at the approaching Mazlowe Carn and Isabelle of Corg, "Ah, well of course not - you've ruined me, madam. Speaking with you first was like having dessert before sitting down to dinner." Bowing with a flourish as he is introduced, his already straight back seems to stiffen slightly at the mention of the Incrementon.

Rising and waving dismissively as if it were a trifle, he half-corrects the lady, "Ah, well, I've studied at and traveled to a myriad of places. I never understood the practice of tying one's learning to one school of thought that everyone else simply memorizes by rote. How is anyone to come up with new ideas if they simply learn to parrot the same old patterns that all generations before them did? All formulas and rote practices, wholely lacking in mystery and true discovery. Only when you broaden your mind's palate does it refine itself towards innovation. Never settling for 'the standard' of anything in life is how true progress and innovation occur, in my estimation. Which is why I find myself drawn to Lady Lilet's company, I'm sure."

Attempting to defuse and redirect the current topic, he coos and makes agreeable musing sounds as they gush about whoever 'old Cecil' is and takes the opportunity to shift his prestidigitation spell to make the fragile form of a small, cup. Murmuring something quietly about 'fresh tea', he prepares to make an apologetic face to anyone who tries to catch his attention, holding out his faux cup as if on a mission to re-fill it and makes towards the kitchen as unobtrusive a manner as possible.


Profession (Actor) check [roll0] if necessary to 'act natural'.
Move Silently check [roll1] to attempt to slip away without making enough noise to call attention to himself.
Hide check [roll2] to attempt to slip away with a minimum of exaggerated movement as to not call attention to himself.
Bluff check [roll3] to attempt to convince anyone who does see him that he is obviously fetching some tea for a cup that is definitely not a fake or odd in any way.

[Erelamar]

Victor (in the Western Salon}

Lady Lilet beams with delight at Victor's sweet words. Mazlowe and Isabelle seem bewildered by the magician's schooling explanation but it doesn't deter them from continuing to jabber about almost nothing at all. It feels more for each other's benefit than for anyone else.

When Isabelle sets in on "old Cecil" (who it can be gathered was a rather exceptional servant, though now either retired or deceased—there doesn't seem to be a difference to the nobles' minds), Victor manages to disentangle himself from Lady Lilet and she swaps out an empty mug for a fresh one off a passing server, saying in the meantime, "My lady's maid, Estefania is the same way. Oh, I don't know what will happen when she's gone. Perhaps that job opportunity I mentioned on the Skywalk can come to fruition yet, Vic—Victor?"

"He went to get some tea." Isabelle finally falls out of sync with Mazlowe, but only for a second, "Did he? I must have missed that." "Yes, yes, tea. Perhaps he's a teetotaller?" And Mazlowe Carn laughs at his own joke, such as it was. "Really, doesn't strike me as being the obstinate type." "Abstinent, dear. Anyway, back to Cecil..."

Though a few other nobles do take notice of Victor's passing, none seem to think anything of it. As for the harried servants, one actually holds the door to the kitchen for him. Beyond is a ceramic tiled room of many tables and stone storage cupboards that emit blasts of frosty air when opened. White-aproned gnome cooks sweat over magically heated hot plates and stoves; balancing on their stools, they spin back and forth as they assemble delicate morsels on the trays hovered over by waiting servers. Victor would think the kitchens would be bigger for a castle the size of Allsatalos; there is perhaps another larger one somewhere else.

Everyone takes the teacup at face value but they all seem too busy to actually help Victor find a kettle. The only exits from the room are the door back to the western salon, another open door to the north that looks out to a pergola, and beyond that to the eastern courtyard garden with its low-set flowers in geometric planters, and, the southwest corner of the kitchen—the literal furthest spot from where Victor currently stands—where is situated a tight, spiral staircase set into the thick wall of the castle. The steps lead only upward.

Clytemnestra (in her guest suite)

After pulling the braided rope to summon a servant, Clytemnestra has to wait but five minutes before there is a knock on her door. A bright-eyed elf listens to her request for a wake-up call and writes it down on a pad. He mentions a light breakfast can be brought up at that time if the "Lady" would like...

Once he has his answer, he departs back southward, presumably to the servants' door at the end of the hallway that Spycrist, Megamax, and herself used but a little while ago. One more thing does catch the elf magician's attention. Peering into the hall outside her room, the door to the guest suite across from her own no longer has a key in the lock.

[Metastachydium]

Quickly contradicting himself, Kirsch spends no more than a minute in his armchair. He springs to his feet, startling Pterygs and makes his way to the rope the guide told him to pull were he to need his servants and pulls it. He had enough time to think things through, and something does not add up. It would seem that someone (and assuming the lying guide followed instructions laid out in the mystery message that someone is likely the old, bald one) wanted him to end up in this room for some reason yet unclear to him. It might be the steward's doing. He can't be careful enough.


♣

I'll boldly assume he too can get a servant in five minutes and it will be one of his own as the guide promised. Feel free to retcon those that follow if any of those assumptions is incorrect.
Once Harel arrives, the magicians bids him to enter and beckons to him to lean in closer. You will stand watch by the door and notify me immediately if you find that someone so much as appears to be watching it or in case someone leaves either of the two occupied rooms opposite mine, especially if they are elderly and bald, have horns, scars or if they do not strike you as noble guests of the castle. Feel free to enter without knocking. he tells the man unceremoniously and in a hushed tone, making sure that he formulates the command simply enough for the servant to understand. That is all for now. he adds, motioning towards the entrance. My Lord. Harel bows his head and steps outside, closing the door behind himself. It's ON! Pterygs squeaks with unmistakable joy, still from atop the bedpost. Kirsch looks up and flashes a smile to her before he disappears behind the screen to get ready for the evening.

[Geeksthenewsexy]

Victor's faux tea cup starts shrinking to an even smaller size until it can be palmed in one hand before he allows it to dissipate there, out of view. Catching sight of the stairway, he glances briefly at the gnomes busy practicing the culinary arts and a hint of a bemused smile crosses his face before he fixes his face into a mask of mild panic and begins walking briskly towards the stairs. Readying a response in his mind should anyone attempt to stop him, he otherwise strides towards the stairs with falsified alacrity. This interesting Spycrist fellow presents a mystery to solve, but most importantly an escape from Lady Lilet. Excellent timing, in Victor's mind.


The response he has prepared should anyone stop him is to blurt hurriedly (in as panicked a voice as he can manage), "They lied! They said her husband would not be here! Unless you'd like to clean my very life's blood out of the nooks and crannies of all the salon's fine furnishings tonight, you must pretend that I was never here! It doesn't matter who asks, I beg you!" and quicken his pace while glancing back at the door he came in from with a striken look on his face.

Bluff Check [roll0] if he needs to actually employ his readied cover story.

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

Clytemnestra thanks the elven servant, speaking in the old tongue, and offers a gold coin in a way that allows the man to either take it or decline it without needing to say anything.

Stepping out into the hallway, Clytemnestra notes that the guest room opposite has now been claimed - or, perhaps, that its key has been stolen. She smiles at the thought of wandering up the hallway, pocketing the rooms of those who stayed below to partake of the repast.

Hm. Chocolate.

Moving heavily over to Meaghan's door, Clytemnestra raps twice, lightly, with the head of her staff.

"Shall we?"

[Ripptor]

http://i.vgy.me/waS64S.png (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449194)

Meagan wraps up her preparations, double-checking her weapons and instruments before reseating each of them tightly back where they belong. Between the Tolerance, the Tracery's unknown defenses, and the heightened political play, she's feeling a bit more on edge than she expected. As Clytemnestra knocks, she looks herself over in the mirror one last time to ensure she's still as innocent looking as a demon girl can be before her servant opens the doorway for them both.

Smiling, Megamax returns to the hallway as her door closes and locks itself behind her, key slipping itself into a vest pocket. "Lets." She glances at the changes as the other bedrooms fill and start staffing their own servants outside the doors. "Hopefully the chocolate is half as good as what the old man had on him!" She walks down the hallway with her, keeping a noble bearing while matching Clytemnestra's pace at her comfort.

LMK if you want me to roll SoH to conceal her things, she's got a lot of different modifiers depending on where each one is stored on her body!

Besides that, just a Spot check to notice a certain staffer noticing her, if afforded:
[roll0]

[Erelamar]

Clytemnestra and Megamax (beginning the walk back to the South Wing)

Having not quite been ready, Clytemnestra returns to her room after dismissing the elven page (he did not seem to take notice of the gratuity... at least this time). But when she reopens the door to the hallway, there is another figure seemingly standing watch outside the room opposite her own. Though this human does not wear the Allsatalos swan livery, he still has the bearing of a servant, though not the posture of an especially well-trained one. You don't remember this one's face among those attending the nobles you climbed the Skywalk with—and a few, like Duke Orbal, didn't seem to bring any attendants at all. He is scanning up and down the corridor as the magician emerges from her room and taking one look at the elf's face, blinks, then averts his gaze.

Anyway, Clytemnestra collects Megamax and they proceed together northward in this corridor; though the route is unfamiliar it shouldn't be difficult to find their way back to the Western Salon.

Again, this time for Megamax, there is interest in the human servant's face. Before the magicians are very far past him though they can hear the latch on the door open, and glancing back the servant retreats inside, a faint throaty whisper of "Master, master..." is all that can be heard before the door snaps shut behind him.

Victor (in the Lesser Kitchen)

Victor manages his way through the organized chaos. The servers do not move to stop him, most press themselves up against the counters to get out of his way, so accustomed are they to obedience. But one of the gnome cooks—the fattest one with the highly manicured beard—bobbing on his stool turns and calls out in a reedy voice, "Hey, where's that one going?" This does get the servers' attention, and more and more eyes start to fall upon the magician.

With Victor's sudden gush of explanation, the human and elven servers look horrified but a chorus of thin laughter rises from the cooks' line. The same gnome which had pointed Victor out calls back again, wiping a tear from his eye, "Alright, lover-boy, get yourself up to the next level. Keep to the left, and tell the first page you see 'Chef Quoryn Bricktwist says you're to take me to my room.' " He turns back to the others and barks something in gnomish which causes them to sputter into laughter again. The whole time they never stop chopping, whisking, and sauteeing.

Free from the kitchen, Victor climbs the cramped spiral stairs and at the first landing—the one ending in a narrow corridor going north—he runs directly into Spycrist. "Och, there you are. Come on, up we go; staff dinner's letting out and most will take a different set o' stairs, but the dishes are coming back this way, and I don't want nobody seeing us chat."

Lady Emalia's old cohort takes Victor up higher in the same spiral staircase, all the way to where it terminates in a thick iron door that radiates cold. Occasionally, a gust of wind can be heard howling outside. "This leads to the south wing battlements just below the mechanical guard tower. This is good a place as any to lay low for a minute while things settle down below us—" Almost as if on cue, a rattle of dishes and the chatter of voices echo up the spiral stairs from the second story landing.

Spycrist merely leans against the stone wall and plucks a fancy flask from his breast pocket and takes a sip. He offers it to Victor, listening intently as the clamor from below increases, plates and trays jangling as their bearers descend the steps to the kitchen far below.

The bald retainer begins in a hoarse whisper, "Eh, so how've you been?"

Harel comes in perhaps five or so minutes after Kirsch had just given him his mission. "Master, master... An elf woman with scars and a woman with horns and pink and purple hair just came out the rooms across from us. They look to be walking back the way we came."

[Metastachydium]

Kirsch was mostly done with washing up when Harel slips back into the room. He listens intently to his report, casting a quick cantrip in the meantime to dry his scales and warm himself up a little and slipping his rings back on his fingers. Thank you, Harel A job well done, overall. I will send for you if the need arises. he dismisses the servant with a vawe of his left hand and turns around, picking up his belt and latching it on, before storming to the window behind the bed and opening it. His mind is elsewhere, however: names spring to it and memories he is not terribly fond of.
These are bad news. He now knows who the horned one is and has a fairly clear idea of who scarface could be. He's not alone in this race anymore.
Pterygs. he calls to his familiar as he makes his way towards the door. Keep watch of the room in my absence. Stay hidden. Were someone to intrude, transmit anger. In the unlikely case that you are discovered, do not engage. I left a window open. Take flight instead and do your best to rejoin me. Pterygs nods along half-heartedly. I get to do the boring stuff. Again. she grumbles but the magician pretends not to even notice and strides out of the room, locking the door behind himself.


♣

Megamax and Clytemnestra hear clawed feet beating against the hallway's floor with a soldierly, even rhythm and then a voice calling after them. Meagan. Ms. Dekatos! Why, it is an absolute delight to happen upon the two of you here. At this rate, Allsatalos is soon to be swimming in magicians. Lustig, of all people, is in attendance as well. If they turn around, they see an all too familiar bipedal lizard, about four feet tall, with brilliant, bright green scales and his arms folded behind his back standing at equal distance from the walls of the corridor. If the predatory smile flashing a multitude of small, pointy teeth is anything to go by, he is not quite absolutely delighted to see them.
Not waiting for an answer, the lizard surges forward to catch up with them, unfolding his arms and extending his right towards his fellow magicians.

The way Kirsch greeted Lady Nadjiel and Neomund was the Miesener way of being very formal. In Miessen, handshakes are an equally acceptable gesture of greeting others; offering (and accepting) a hand is usually a sign of camarederie.

[Geeksthenewsexy]

Leaning against the wall casually, he takes his queue from the man and adopting the role of long-term casual acquaintance and shrugs slightly. "I took the low road here, so there were the usual bandits and highwaymen. It added a bit of spice to an otherwise bland journey - you know how it is." Smiling slightly, he twirls his cane in lazy circle in one hand. "I really must thank you for the timely escape from Lady Lilet. She's a woman with a rather...hm...strong personality, we'll say. I do hope the husband she spoke of is alive and full of...hm...vigor. I fully intend to leave the same way I came - unentangled." Accepting the flask, Victor nods graciously and lifts the flask in a casual toast to his own hopes and takes a small pull from it before handing it back.

[Ripptor]

http://i.vgy.me/waS64S.png (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449194)
Megamax beams at Kirsch, taking his hand in both hers for a short shake before pulling him in arm-in-arm with herself down the hallway. "So we meet again! Kirsch and Victor, why they are just inviting anyone to this party, aren't they? Speaking of which..." Acting oblivious to her own light slight, Megamax looks over her shoulder before spreading it a little thinner, "You haven't seen Kotoba, have you? The old man was with us at the gates earlier. Fell into the crowd, somewhere..."

Without waiting for a response, (and having looked around them for listeners), she snaps her head back to Kirsch, walking around him to switch to holding his left arm before leaning her face in close for a new topic. "Swimming in mages may be the last thing Allsatalos wants, it turns out." Leaning in even closes for a whisper, "The Tolerance is watching over Lady Emalia's estate. They appear less than pleased at our presence."

Straightening back up, face and body back at a respectful arm-in-arm distance, "I look forward to seeing Lady again, I've not seen her since she dropped me off at Scarthey in Sandrine."

A late warning, not that Meagan knows that!

And she can't help herself from a light jab every now and then :smallwink:

[Erelamar]

Victor (with Spycrist at the top of servants' stairs)

Victor finds the fine flask's contents to be a harmonious brandy: notes of oak, spices, and crystalized fruit with a lovingly long aftertaste of cinnamon and vanilla.

Spycrist responds, "Aye, yeah, the low road'll do that, alright." Screwing up his face in thought, he continues, "Who? That toothy woman? Seen her 'round, time-to-time. She's fiesty, sure, but harmless. She can actually make the Lady laugh, really laugh, like she used to. That's a thing been in short supply since the elf lord passed.

"Thing is, thing is it ain't been goin' so well here." The old man takes back his flask for another snort, then mournfully continues, "I'll not bore ya with all the copper-counting details, Vic... You know it's funny, I'd never imagined you be one to show up?

"Anyways, I was saying, the Lady's in something o' a rut, and what's worse she got this Duke—a real shark—she got him pursuing her this whole last year. Just wants her money..." At that Spycrist does laugh softly, but it quickly turns into a wheezy cough. "It crossed my mind that maybe while you're here enjoying the creature comforts, maybe you'd do me the kindness of making this Duke look not so good to her Ladyship; you know, make em look foolish, or get him mad and make him show off his temper—he got one, I know, but he hides it good. He just needs a little push to throw up them alarm bells in the Lady's head.

"Whatcha say? I mean, back when you was a greenhorn the Lady was awful kind to ya, when she didn't need to be, if'n I remember." Spycrist offers up his flask of exquisite liquor again, along with a knowing expression.

[Metastachydium]

Kirsch's eyes widen slightly for a second when Megamax performs her little maneuver and a patch of scales darkens to a dull bluish hue, but he is quick to regain his composure. Figuring that the little insult must have been aimed at Victor and Victor alone, he even permits himself a brief, mildly amused smile.
The fact that she actually tries to warn him of what he already knows (much unlike Victor who did his best to undermine his efforts) comes to him as a surprise as well, albeit as a pleasant one. Of that, I am painfully aware. he replies quickly, ignoring the first question about this Kotoba fellow (whoever that might be), before he turns his snout towards Megamax to whisper a few more words onto her shoulder. As is the steward of the two of you. He exhibited a very keen interest in your current whereabouts. I had the pleasure of conversing with him earlier today. the lizard adds with a „but no more of this” handwave.
When the noble demon changes the subject, Kirsch nods along politely. No wonder. he remarks at last, without making it clear which part of Megamax's comment he responds to. In actual fact, I did not have the occasion to meet the kind Lady in person either for quite some time now. he continues in a smooth, conversational tone, trying hard to hide his lack of genuine enthusiasm regarding the prospect of catching up with Emalia.

[Geeksthenewsexy]

Inclining his head in a respectful nod, Victor grins wickedly. "You tell me to do something fun as if it were a chore? Happily, my good man. Assuming of course, you'll provide me the details of the man in question, and perhaps make an effort to remind the good Lady that... hrm... that I'm an admirable fellow should the man make a bigger scene than expected. Would hate to be cast in a negative light while doing this service without someone the Lady admires speaking up for me when it counts. Fair enough?" He considers the servants downstairs, and a twinkle of mischief dances in his eyes. "Please tell me that I can get a look at this man, or a portrait of him at the very least, before he gets a look at me."


Victor is considering/planning on disguising himself (Hat of Disguise +10, plus his +11 Disguise Bonus) as the man in question to shout and belittle the servants whenever he can, to the point they'd want petty vengeance on him to help needle the man over the course of the visit, and/or word to get back to the Lady about his reprehensible treatment of her servants. Laying the tinder down thick before he himself directly provides the final spark that will trigger the fire of true anger in the man.

[Erelamar]

Victor (with Spycrist at the top of Servants' stairs)

Spycrist waves Victor's concerns away, "Don't you worry none on that, the Lady won't let none come to harm under her roof. Not now, not in a place like this. And if'n you seen him, that bastard-steward, the snow elf, he'll not let anything fuss about these little gatherings either. Not in plain view and such. No, no, I could'na think the Duke'll actually harm ya... probably, surely, yeah, surely..." Spycrist rubs his bald head and carries the motion to the back of his neck, staring off in thought. "Yeah, you'll be fine."

At the notion of an image of the Duke: "Och, I got nothing like that... BUT tonight, you'll get a real good look at him at tonight's gala-thing, take his measure, then set to work on him tomorrow—the list o' activities for the guests tomorrow is long as mah arm before the real banquet begin."

Spycrist finds his fancy flask empty when he goes to shake its contents, but ever-prepared, he produces and less-adorned flask from a back pocket. After taking a swig from that he continues, "Though, if'n you wanted to get ahead o' the game, I know where you could spend some time chattin' up the Duke. Between o'rival and first-night gala, he goes down to the guest spa: steam, message, hearty scrubbin', all them sorts of things. You might find yourself a stall next to his and get a sense o' the man."

Spycrist slaps his head, "Och, how are we gonna get ya to your room? The second floor is gonna be teemin' with servants. I can probably explain gettin' myself out this'a way—" to which Spycrist points at the door at the top of the stairs leading to the battlements, "—but can ya get your way back down through the kitchens? If'n I give ya direction can you make it through the servant corridors to the guest rooms? I got one in mind for ya, next to your friend, the lizard-wizard, and a few other folks you may know who want this thing I'm talking to ya about to go the same way..."

Clytemnestra, Megamax, and Kirsch (walking back to the Western Salon)

Rounding the corner, the three magicians run into (for the majority of them) a familiar face: Duke Orbal, walking in the opposite direction. He appears quite different. The Duke is less aristocratic now that he is wearing what amounts to a formal bathrobe and slippers with a bundle of personal toiletries under one arm, but at the same time much larger: without all the heavy furs and velvet brocade and tall, riding boots artificially inflating his size, you can see that he is in fact quite a large man with broad shoulders and narrow waist, standing a full half-a-foot taller than the tallest of your party.

"We meet again," says the Duke with a calm smile. His eyes roll over Clytemnestra and settle on Megamax arm-in-arm with Kirsch. "More exotic faces!" Orbal gives Megamax a look that is loaded with implication, which he does not in the least hide from the others.

Spycrist did mention there is a "Spa" at the end of the long corridor which contains the guest suites, near where the servant corridor from the South Wing comes out into the West Wing.

[Geeksthenewsexy]

Removing his haversack and putting it on backwards, Victor looks quite odd until he tips his hat, and clothes suddenly shift to match that of the servant livery and the haversack changes to look like a pile of clean monographed linens that he's carrying while his facial features change to be a bland average looking man. The now bland-looking average man flashes a smile. "I think directions will be more than sufficient."

FYI: Short, because I'm leaving for work

Using Hat of Disguise to change his appearance. In case it's needed: Disguise Check [roll0] to pass as a servant & Bluff Check [roll1] to look like I'm busy doing important work to hopefully make it to the indicated rooms without being waylayed.

[Metastachydium]

If Kirsch had eyebrows, he would now raise one. Instead the lizard only gives the towering figure a mildly curious look. To you, perhaps. he replies to Orbal's bathrobe somewhat coldly. Telling the man he is an ignorant provincial cretin would hardly be appropriate, after all. He then turns to his companions with an inquisitive look. I take it that you are better acquainted with this fine gentleman than myself.

This might be a good time to mention that Kirsch really doesn't like being called exotic.

[Ripptor]

https://i.vgy.me/FewwEz.png (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449194)

Megamax grins back, "Duke Orbal! I'll need your secret to wearing a robe better than most mages I know." Gesturing to Kirsch, "Speaking of mages, this is an old acquaintance of mine, Kirsch of Likhten's Line. We're in for a far more cosmopolitan party this year, I've so heard." Cocking her head wryly to the side, "Though if you are headed our way for some hot chocolate, then this party will already be far more entertaining than I imagined!"

Gesturing behind Kirsch, she locks eyes with Orbal. "I do look forward to us spending some time together this evening. You can even reintroduce me to Lady, though she'll know me as Megamax the Magician." Peacocking, she pulls her face to the side. "She helped me pick that one out herself, back in Sandrine."

Lets go for a discreet Charm Person on Orbal, for Meagan to buddy up with the wonderful bastard. She might be able to find more out about what's going on just by partying near him for the evening... And it seems he'll need help letting her bring along the 'exotics' to the group.

Conceal Spellcasting, using [roll0] for:
Charm Person, DC 17 for the Duke to hear her words in the best light for the next 11 hours.

Hopefully her attempts to try and party with him are pretty in-character, but if she's pushing her luck:
[roll1]

Maybe this is the first time Clytemnestra/Kirsch have heard her call herself that, or it's just some silly eye-roller for them that they tend to ignore, or just go along with her silliness. Have whatever fun with it as you like :smallbiggrin:

[Erelamar]

Victor (with Spycrist at the top of Servants' stairs)

Spycrist takes a look at the suddenly changed Victor and nods approvingly. "Okay, then. Good, good. All ya need do is get back down to the second floor and take that hallway ya saw me coming down. You'll hit a T-intersection and you'll take a left there. You'll pass a couple more servants' stairs, one down to the main kitchen and up to the southwest guard tower, the second's just down to the staff rooms and offices, guard station, and cells. But anyway, you pass them by. Just follow where the hallway takes ya. The door at the end will bring you back into the castle proper, the guest suite hallway. When you come out, that door there right there to your left will be the guest spa but you'll be turning right. Now, you come to a group of..." The old retainer rubs his bald head, seemingly in thought, "No, och, I got this. You'll come to a group o' three doors right side of the hall. Nessie and Meagan are in the first two, but the third should still have a key in the door: that's yours. If'n I did my job right, your lizardfolk friend should be across the hall. Got it?"

It begins to look like Spycrist is going to wait around to hear it the directions repeated back to him, but then the swan brooch he wears (the only adornment on him at all) rings once like a tiny bell and begins to softly glow. "Ahhh... great. I think I'm about to get chewed out. Don't worry I've been chewed out before." He grins wide enough Victor can spot a missing molar.

No longer waiting around to hear much of anything, Spycrist draws a keyring from a pocket and unlocks the door at the top of the servants' staircase. Opening it, a blast of frosty air and sunlight assault the dim interior illumination of the castle. As he removes the key, Victor can hear the locking mechanism in the metal door automatically reset itself. With a wave over his shoulder, Spycrist leaves Victor to his own devices. The metal door shutting fast behind the aged cohort as he scuttles down the battlements toward the soaring citadel of Allsatalos.

Clytemnestra, Megamax, and Kirsch (with Duke Orbal in the guest suite hallway)

Not breaking the gaze with Megamax, Duke Orbal smiles and says, "Oh, to be sure, I will be right by Lady Emalia's side and will be more than happy..." with this he finally breaks eye contact and glances swiftly to Clytemnestra before returning to Megamax, "To handle your reintroductions with the Lady myself." As to Megamax's charm, the Duke appears to be as unaware of it as he is unaffected by it.

"Now, I really must be off. I'm in sore need of a schvitz. It is a long ride from Bruckwald, even on an elven horse. And I like to be well-relaxed for the coming festivities." The Duke steps aside, though there is little need considering the width of the hallway. He nods to each of you in kind, "Lady Dekatos. Lady Maximus. Lord Kirsch."

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

Greeting Kirsch:

The literally stiff-backed elf nods warmly to the noble lizardfolk.

"It has been too long, sir! I had not realized we had Lady Emalia's acquaintance in common."

--

With Duke Orbal:

Clytemnestra is cordial, building on the rapport that she seemed to have with the Duke previously.

"I have some faint hope that the Lady Emalia will remember me without the need for reintroduction, but I thank you for your gracious offer, my Lord."

She gestures towards the hub-bub of the ongoing reception, and turns to her colleagues.

"Shall we?"

My apologies for falling behind in this thread!

Does Clytemnestra notice Megamax charming Orbal? [roll0]

[Ripptor]

http://i.vgy.me/waS64S.png (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449194)

Megamax waves at the Duke as they pass, moving on down the hallway. As they continue on, they eventually come across a metal door which catches her eye, lock melted and fused shut entirely. Meagan stops to eye it up, asking Clytemnestra, "Well, we didn't pass that on the way here..."

Remembering Father Neomund's warning about doors, Meagan walks over to get a better look, with Baubie fluttering out of her pocket to peek about as well...

Curious about the door, and we're even alone with it this time!

Let's give it a Search for clues, happy to accept any help on this one:
[roll0]

There seem to be windows nearby, so a peek through those to see what this door may lead to could be informative. If the windows will open, then Baubie could fly out and see if he can get through to the other side, or just look in a window over there and scout.

[Metastachydium]

(Duke Orbal)
Kirsch puts a pleasant-looking smile on his face when the duke excuses himself, and returns his nod. The smile disappears immediately once Orbal is out of sight, only to return when Clytemnestra makes her suggestion.
By all means. he replies to elf, getting into motion again.


♣

(At the weird door)
Kirsch looks around nervously before approaching the door himself. I did and it did not escape my notice. I believe it would be wiser to leave examining it to a more opportune moment, nevertheless. he folds his arms behind his back thoughtfully before continuing. Passing nobles such as this Orbal fellow worry me little, even if I would suspect that not all of them have the basic decency and discretion to not make whatever they see or hear the subject of idle gossip. I am more concerned about servants. the lizard motions towards Clytemnestra to step closer as well and lowers his voice. Until proven otherwise, I am afraid I shall have to view them as prying eyes and extended hands for a certain resident of this castle. Kirsch looks up for a second, clenching his teeth. Speaking of, I would warmly recommend that you keep your distance from the steward. I had the misfortune to experience that he has certain unpleasantÂ… Capabilities. He is a sworn knight, you see, with all the tricks of the trade, trained in unarmed combat and in tackling those with magical prowess. It is difficult to move and impossible to safely cast in his immediate proximity. Make sure you keep that in mind and let us not loiter here for long.


Spellcraft: [roll0] to see if whatever happened to the door was a result of something magical;
Knowledge (architecture and engineering) [roll1] to see what Kirsch knows about such metallic doors and where this one could lead.

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

Once Duke Orbal is out of sight, Clytemnestra stumps after the others, and swirls a simple detection spell at the metal door, to better ascertain what future challenges may be faced. She doesn't get close to the door, instead watching out for anyone approaching from up the hallway.

"Agreed. We should move on to the reception, and from there to the gala, as soon as time permits, to minimize suspicion.

Clytemnestra casts detect magic to take in the door. Spellcraft: [roll0]

[Erelamar]

Clytemnestra, Megamax, and Victor (en route back to the Western Salon, currently inspecting the melted metal door)

Unfortunately, the fused metal door is across the hall from the windows looking down on the western garden. None of you can see any way to "get around it" so to speak, to look inside. It's possible the chamber beyond is so interior to the castle's citadel it has no windows at all.

Megamax' scrutiny brings to the trio's attention that this metal door once had an artful pattern etched into its surface. It's no longer easy to make out, but something like shelves with copious vines spilling down from all of them, the leaves of which take a great variety of shapes: generic knights, dragons, and castles, instruments, banners, and faeries. And those are just the ones that haven't been marred unrecognizable.

Anyway, it is very clear someone does not want anyone getting through this door. Not just already being very sturdy with what once was a complicated lock, nor just melting the lock itself to render the mechanism inaccessible—something that as magicians you know could be bypassed with a simple knock spell, no, it was completely welded shut to its frame. By this point, breaking it down will very likely require its complete destruction

At Victor's urging and Clytemnestra's agreement, the party continues south back towards the Grand Staircases and the First Hall. As they do so, along the same stretch of wall, not fifty feet from the metal door, there is a set of double doors. These, though, are the same heavy, ornate, wooden affairs which you have seen all over Allsatalos already—so common in fact, when Kirsch passed them the first time, they didn't merit notice. What is strange about them now, is that they lead into the heart of the citadel like the metal door not so far away, but these doors do not appear to be anything special.

Continuing on, the magicians are nearing the second-floor landing of the grand staircases when they run into a gaggle of nobles being lead by a nervous human servant and followed by their luggage-bearing porters. Upon spotting the wizards, the servant surges forward a few steps but stops a respectful distance, bowing quickly but deeply to each in turn, "My lords, my ladies. Um, is there something you require? Are, uh, your rooms satisfact—"

"Their rooms are just fine, boy!" cackles Lady Lilet von Bleak stepping to the fore of the aristocrats, still with a silver mug of brandied hot chocolate in her hand. She shakes her drink at them, with only a minimum of spillage, "Getting a jump on Cocktail Hour are we, Lord Kirsch? Her wide grin is even more toothy than the lizardfolk remembers. Knowing smiles are shared by the pair of nobles directly behind Lady Lilet, a bow-legged man with a woman on his arm who seems so airy she bordered on the insubstantial. The rest of the highborn faces seem less amused with her antics.

"Say, have you seen your companion, Victor? He went to fetch some tea or some such. I hope he hasn't gotten lost the poor th..." Lady Lilet's myopic vision finally settles on Clytemnestra and Megamax as if for the first time. Like she is really seeing them. "My gods, the pair of you are Striking."

If anyone attempts to jiggle the handle of the wooden double doors near the fused metal door, you'll find them to be locked.

[Metastachydium]

(At the Door)
That is most thoroughly unusual. thinks Kirsch to himself while assessing the door and follows the patterns adorning it for a few moments before turning away to leave. Unusual and vexing, but not the least bit surprising. The door is evidently important and he can easily think of a particular someone who would want to block anyone, even magicians from bypassing it (what wouldn't he do for the ability to cast those spells which can grant one the insubstantiality of a ghost or access to the Ethereal Plane – if, of course, legends are to be believed). But he'll frustrate the efforts somehow, it takes what it takes.


Knowledge (local) [roll0]
Knowledge (history) [roll1]
Knowledge (arcana) [roll2]
Knowledge (nobility and royalty) [roll3]
Knowledge (religion) [roll4] to see if the patterns on the door ring a bell.



♣

(At the stairs)
The usual serene smile begins to appear on the lizard's face as the servant approaches them with the proper reverence they deserve, but the resulting smile quickly becomes somewhat forced. Of course it has to be Lady Lilet. Again. Why, indeed, Lady Lilet. Our most urgent priority is „getting a jump on Cocktail Hour.” he replies, mostly swallowing his annoyance. When the second question is asked, however, the scales on the magician's forehead and those around his eyes change their colouration, turning into a dull, greyish blue. Permit me to point out that it would be grossly imprecise to describe Lustig as my com- he starts, the words rolling of his tongue unusually fast, but then, Lady Lilet interrupts him, addressing his colleagues. He instinctively steps back somewhat relieved: Lady Lilet found new prey and he's more than happy to throw Meagan and Clytemnestra in front of the lioness.

I'm pretty sure everyone's noticed by now, but I just love Chameleon Skin.

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

At the Door

As the three realize that the metal doors are not yielding to their efforts to open it, Clytemnestra murmurs to her companions. "Well, we are magicians, after all. If the solution isn't immediately clear, we simply return with a different spell. There's no apparent magic at play, so the seal is likely mechanical."

--

With Lady Lilet

Instinctively, and to her faint embarrassment, Clytemnestra finds herself instinctively pitching her voice down and a bit louder in order to accommodate the hearing - or her prejudices about the hearing - of Lady Lilet.

"And you are a vision of elegance, My Lady."

Lilet's two fisting eliminates any possibility of socially acceptable physical contact, to Clytemnestra's faint relief, and she simply bows in response to the woman's compliment. She then turns with utter deadpan to Kirsch.

"My dear lord Kirsch, surely you are not attempting to distance yourself from Lustig, redoubtable scholar and inveterate mountebank that he is?"

Without giving time for a response, Clytemnestra leans in to speak with Lady Lilet.

"I am ashamed to say that I have been absorbed in my studies and out of proper society for too long, My Lady. Who do you think that we should keep an eye on to distinguish themselves at this evening's gala?"

[Metastachydium]

Kirsch gives Clytemnestra's back a vicious, albeit brief glare; he does, however, hone his earholes for Lady Lilet's answer. The lady might be insufferable, but the elf is right: she has her uses.

[Erelamar]

Clytemnestra, Megamax, and Victor (Grand Staircase, Second Floor Landing)

Lilet von Bleak feigns a swoon at Clytemnestra's compliment and her closest fellow aristocrats chuckle at her brief melodrama. The rest however are beginning to stamp their feet in impatience, which goes unnoticed by the Lady. Their nervous servant guide just keeps shifting his weight back and forth on his feet.

"Hmm, now? Distinguished?" Lady Lilet jerks her head back over her shoulder to the noble party behind her. "Nothing distinguished about this lot." She laughs carelessly.

"No, no, but I take your meaning. You must be as new here as Lord Kirsch to not know: there is really little room for the spotlight at Emalia's banquets. Not one to 'share the room' in her old age." Lady Lilet is perhaps twenty years Emalia's junior.

She shrugs and continues, "That Duke fellow, Orbal, one night it was very late and we were very drunk and Emalia challenged him to a martial exhibition; he had been boasting you see. So out in the East Garden, he disarmed ten guards in like what ten-or-twelve seconds?" She turns back to the bow-legged nobleman and his airy paramour who nod. Though they seem pleased to listen, they both appear to be quite tired and more than a little drunk themselves.

"That was the point of the thing, First to Disarm; I told them I could not stand the sight of blood. And oh, how we clapped! Anyway, as you can imagine, the chief steward was none-to-happy about having his men so soundly beaten and forbade any future displays of, ahem, physical feats..."

"But, other than that, we're just a sea of interchangeable faces really. The nobility is just so incredibly boring." The pair behind her continue nodding, obliviously. Those others begin to stamp their feet a bit louder, like restless cattle. "Yeah, yeah, I hear you back there..."

"Who else? I think I spotted Dominique; she inherited a great many of the breweries in the Fraal Marches from her father." For the first time, Lady Lilet leans in and lowers her voice, "I've heard she's a bit thuggish when it comes to reimbursement. Some, I'm told, call her 'the Cleaver,' if that doesn't make the hair stand up on the back of your neck."

Of course, I've also heard Countess Yzonde is here also this time. Making the rounds, I suspect. She is a terrible judge of taste in my opinion, but everyone else doesn't seem to think so." Lady Lilet makes a great round gesture with her mugs. "You can't miss her." And Lady Lilet's toothy grin beams with satisfaction.

Mechanically, Duke Orbal's display was probably accomplished with a number of normal attack/disarm attempts and Combat Reflexes to disarm with his AOO's against those provoked when the low-level normal guards (who would not have Improved Disarm) attempted to disarm him. So, it's an impressive feat, but not one so incredible.

[Ripptor]

http://i.vgy.me/waS64S.png (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449194)

Megamax finds the etchings in the door and burns the pattern into her memory before getting hurried off with the others, Baubie floating back into her 4D pocket. Passing the next set of doors heading the same general direction, Meagan quietly taps the handles in passing to find them locked, but more mundanely. Curious.

Megamax smiles graciously at Lady Lilet and her compliment, nodding her head as she stands beside the fluctuating Kirsch. Meagan knows too well that Lady would share the spotlight little with anyone else, and was eagerly looking forward to seeing just what she would do tonight. The tale of Lady having Orbal fightithe Father's guards caught Meagan's attention, however.

Walking around Kirsch to flank Lilet with Clytemnestra, Megamax glowed. "Duke Orbal handled ten of Lady's guards himself? Why, she must have been delighted AND displeased!" Lowering her voice, she adds, "She must have little faith in Father Neomund and his protection after that bad of a showing."

Getting the feeling that Lady was using Orbal to test her ability to get past Neomund and his guards, there... Lady+Orbal vs the Tolerance?

Pushing Lilet to see if Lady was more happy or frustrated that Orbal won/Neomund lost.

And, quick knowledge checks on the other two nobles mentioned:

[roll0]
[roll1]

[Metastachydium]

Kirsch, all glistening green again and with an expression of serene wisdom on his scaly face steps forward as the conversation takes a more promising turn. Fascinating as this feat might sound, the resemblance between light-hearted fencing and armed combat is but superficial, Meagan. he says pleasantly, with only the slightest hint of smugness in his tone. Besides, I am more than confident that the good Father is perfectly capable of arranging more potent defenses for his Lady and her castle than a dozen timid guardsmen. the magician looks at the assembled nobles, and Lady Lilet in particular expectantly, as if seeking confirmation. Some of these people should be familiar enough with the internal affairs of the castle to provide information of some use on Neomund's machinations, and if he has to chit-chat with Lilet von Bleak to obtain that, then so be it.


On Dominique:
Knowledge (nobility and royalty) [roll0]
Knowledge (local) [roll1]

On Countess Yzonde:
Knowledge (nobility and royalty) [roll2]
Knowledge (local) [roll3]

[Erelamar]

Clytemnestra, Megamax, and Kirsch (Grand Staircase, Second Floor Landing)

"Oh, she was delighted, let me tell you. It was her whole idea after all. The steward had already gone to bed, or reverie or whatever it is elves do..." At this, Lady Lilet gestures to Clytemnestra for confirmation, though doesn't wait for the response. "Doubt he'd ever have allowed it to happen if he was hovering around like usual, but it was very late. Emalia just went 'round snatching up any guards she could find, them being on standby to make sure one of us old drunks didn't tumble over a balcony or fall into a pool.

"Anyway, by the next morning at brunch, just for the guests of course as Emalia rarely reappears before noon, the steward showed up and read off a document, signed by Emalia already, in his stuffy way, you know, saying contests between guests and guards concerning feats of strength or martial quality is strictly prohibited in Allsatalos—

"What?" Lady Lilet turns to the growing restlessness of the crowd behind her, the murmur of displeasure rising. "Oh, fine. Boy, lead these fuss-buckets to their rooms while I finished my little chat."

The servant swallows. A sweat bead forms at his temple. "But, but, my Lady, I cannot leave you unatten—"

"What? What, boy? I couldn't hear you over your disagreeing with me. What are you saying...?" The servant stares back, the blood draining from his face. Lady Lilet continues, "That's what I thought. Run along and get this lot to their rooms. I'll catch up in a minute."

The servant turns but turns back to the Lady, bows; turns to the trio of magicians bowing to each, before stepping aside and waving the rest of the noble party to continue on down the hallway to the guest suites, bowing to each in turn in an exhaustive display. Lilet von Bleak watches this whole theatre and you almost believe her eyes are going to roll right out of her head.

As Kirsch advances his speculation as to the castle's defenses, Lady Lilet takes him in, nodding, though in a noncommittal way. "Oh, I'm sure that wasn't the castle's elite, not to mention whatever else the place has up its sleeve when it comes to magic protections—like what I said back then about the Skywalk turning to mist if needs be. But really, I wouldn't know anything about it..." She taps her foot and finished one of the mugs of brandied hot chocolate, casually setting it on the railing of the landing's balcony.

"You know who'd know? I just thought I spied him in the West Salon when we were leaving: old Hargen. He would know better; he's a very famous fabulist, and amateur historian, and whatever else. He retired to a chalet not far from here. He and the late elf-lord were close; he stood as Witness for him in his marriage ceremony to Emalia. I was here as well, you know, very exclusive, they only gave what? four-days notice? I was lucky Bleaksburg is situated so near..." and Lady Lilet will continue in pointless reminiscence until someone stops her.

[Ripptor]

http://i.vgy.me/waS64S.png (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449194)

Meagan nods along with Lilet as she describes the fuss, imagining the excitement. A non-lethal contest could be fun, though she would probably be best served sitting those out, publicly. Where Duke Orbal gained repute from it, she would only receive undue attention.

Meagan notes the name and location of old Hargen, apparently just one room away. While Lady Lilet had scared off their servant's watchful eyes for the moment, it would not be for long, she was sure. As Lilet goes into the details of Lady's wedding, Meagan jumps in to let the others take advantage of the moment. "Oh, and you are so lucky to have been able to attend! I'm sure the wedding was wondrous, even Countess Vollenveen must have agreed."

Taking Lady Lilet by the arm, she starts walking her to where the rest of the other nobles had headed off. "If the Countess could even make it on such short notice, herself! You are fortunate, she can always be spotted at the parties in Sandrine, but you have more exclusive access to this part of the country." Mirroring Lilet, Meagan continues her chatter with her down the hall towards the others' rooms.

"I haven't seen the Countess since my graduation in Scarthey. You would think the magic show they put on would be enough to amaze anyone, but she still found something to complain about, she always does..."

Leading Lady Lilet away from the action, chattering about nobility gossip on the walk to her rooms, and idieally lead them from there to some hot chocolate!

Hopefully by allowing the servants to keep an eye on Megamax, Father Neomund will focus on her while they can get a scoop or two from Old Hargen! :smallsmile:

Might as well use the time with Lilet and the other nobles nearby to cozy up:
Taking 10 for Diplomacy 27 to try and move Lady Lilet up the friend ladder!

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

Meaghan's final comment brings a mischievous smile to the normally clenched lips of Clytemnestra, as she murmurs softly.

"Well, not always."

Swiftly, Clytemnestra shifts conversational gears, and turns to Kirsch.

"Hargen seems like as good as anyone for our next conversation. Shall we withdraw to the west salon?"

[Metastachydium]

Kirsch couldn't care less about this Dominique (probably some lowborn upstart!) and the Countess. When Hargen is brought up, however, he gives Lady Lilet a this time genuine, perfectly mollified smile. He even taps his chest with his right palm bidding his farewell to her as she turns to leave. That there is someone, and better yet: an outsider who has little reason to worry about Neomund but who should know enough – from learning and experience – about the castle is welcome news. He also feels a newfound respect for Megamax: sacrificing herself like that – this is incredibly generous of her.
Better than most, I would dare say. he replies to Clytemnestra in a most delighted humour. Let us see about locating him! I hope he did not wander far in the meantime.


On Hargen:
Knowledge (nobility and royalty) [roll0]
Knowledge (local) [roll1]
Knowledge (history) [roll2]

[Erelamar]

Clytemnestra, Megamax, and Kirsch (Grand Staircase, Second Floor Landing)

As Megamax escorts her charge up the hallway back towards the waiting guest suites, Lady Lilet can be heard to say, "Oh, aren't you a precious little thing! And no, no, the Countess could find fault with, let me tell you a story..." and the pair recede into the distant glare of white marble and great western facing windows taking in the sunset.

I'm going to speed along Lady Lilet's and Megamax' socializing. She's kind of filled up enough pages with rambling as it is. :smallredface:

Lilet tells the story of her wedding ~15 years ago and how Countess Yzonde was there and gave it a bad review, and—after finishing her last brandied hot chocolate—quoted the Countess' letter from memory, "The aged Lord Bleak has apparently discovered his latest wife in a hyena farm." She follows that up with some unpleasant language, but there is a touch of sadness to her anger.

As you pass the double wooden doors, Lilet mentions they lead to the Upper Withdrawing Room, and it's likely a few of Emalia's favorites will join her there for a nightcap after the party this evening. Lilet says she'll put in a good word for Megamax.

As to the melted metal door, she has no idea. She hasn't really even given it any thought since the first time she passed it when she was here about a decade ago, long before Emalia's time.

#

Descending to the ground level of the First Hall, Clytemnestra and Kirsch make their way back to the Grand Foyer. Now, though, the gates of Allsatalos are closed to the frosty mountain air and Skywalk. Four guardsmen with halberds stand at attention before them. Clearly, the time for new arrivals has passed... or at least someone believes so.

The doors to the Western Salon are still open, and several servants are in the midst of cleaning up various platters, trays, and the odd spills. When they see the magicians approach, they send through the swinging door into the kitchen for "more, more, more." One approaches to say, "Beg pardon, my lord, my lady, we had thought the guests finished. Only take a moment, we'll whip up something for you."

Save the staff, the room at first seems empty, but then you spot a figure in a high-backed armchair sitting by the fire, a blanket wrapped around his legs and a silver mug cradled in his hands. He is a man of advanced age yet still soft-featured, and he stares into the dancing flames in contemplation.

At your approach, he turns to glance your way. He registers little surprise at the presence of a lizardfolk but when his pale eyes look to Clytemnestra, they go wide. On shaky legs, he begins to stand letting the blanket fall away, a hand upon the armrest desperately trying to push himself to his feet:

"My lady, I beg forgiveness. I had not known any of the Marquess' family had returned to Allsatalos," he says; his voice is a shallow, gentle rumble like distant thunder, the last vestiges of a once-powerful orator.

Both Clytemnestra and Kirsch know that this old man must have seen dozens of other common (high) elves, both among the staff and nobles, today already. Something else has triggered his sudden reverence.

[Metastachydium]

As they approach the old man who must be the famed Hargen Orq himself, Kirsch swallows a surprised chuckle when the human greets his fellow magician with unexpected words and eagerness, to maintain the decorum and, no less importantly, lest he offend Clytemnestra. She and Meagan seem willing to cooperate for now, and they proved useful enough thus far. For his part, the lizard is convinced that Clytemnestra Dekatos has nothing to do with the past owners of Allsatalos, but this little confusion can be to their advantage if it helps gain Hargen's trust and goodwill – provided the elf plays smart. At any rate, Kirsch resolves to put his faith in her as well as not to interfere with the conversation before she could have a chance to respond.

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

Approaching the human man with Kirsch at her side, Clytemnestra smiles with some genuine warmth. She sought to find a way to neither confirm nor deny the borrowed honours in which he dresses her. Clytemnestra gestures for Hargen to remain seated, and uses the tip of her staff to retrieve the discarded blanket, offering it to him again.

"You do me great honour, Lord Hargen. I do feel a sense of kinship with this place. My studies have included this area, but not with the clarity and depth of your own research. Perhaps tomorrow, we could tour the grounds together? It would be an honour to share insights.

"But my manners fail me. This is Lord Kirsch, and I am Clytemnestra, of the Dekatos line.

"It is a relief for me, and I suspect for Lord Kirsch, to step away from the chatter of the crowd, and to have an opportunity to speak with a true scholar."

[Ripptor]

http://i.vgy.me/waS64S.png (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449194)

Meagan nods along with Lilet's story, listening to her frustrations about the hen-pecking gossip. The story reminds Meagan of her treatment by the other Red Witches in the Coven Circle, especially her older sisters.

"Yzonde can be quite cruel, when she decides to be... But you can control the power of a word." Gesturing in front of her, she mimics a toothed mouth out of her hands, "In the Valley of Fire, a Hyena is a symbol of cunning, recognizing opportunities and always advancing forward." Her fanged hands mime a roar, a small flame rearing out from between.

Reaching for Lilet, she slips into the woman's arm, still talking with her other hand to keep her attention. "They are fierce pack hunters, working together to wait out their opponents, victorious at the inevitable end. I can tell you have many friends, and us young folk have a long life yet ahead. We'll see just who is laughing in the end." Meagan winks at Lady Lilet, her pep talk ended. Hopefully her new Hyena friend will keep her spirits up in the evening ahead!

Walking closely together now, they continue through the halls as Lilet shows Meagan the way, noting certain aspects that the young noble drops so effortlessly. A withdrawing room for the ladies later, a promise or two, and another perspective on the melted door... If it's been melted far before Neomund arrived, it may be even more interesting than she supposed. Perhaps a path from the withdrawing room can be found tonight...

Making friends with Lilet von Bleak, Meagan knows what it is like to be bullied for being different and/or having habits unfitting for nobility. She'll try to build up Lilet while getting closer to her. As a pair of young girls, they have lots of time left yet to establish themselves!

[Erelamar]

Clytemnestra and Kirsch (with Hargen in the Western Salon)

The old man, relieved, settles back into his chair, gratefully accepting his blanket once more and drapes it around his legs. "I must beg forgiveness for my presumption, Lady Clytemnestra, Lord Kirsch. When I saw a gray elf, I naturally assumed you to be of the Marquis' extended family. Though I must confess, I believed I had them all tallied; his younger cousin, the magician, and a few distant relations in Chinyere."

A server enters with a tray of brandied hot chocolate accompanied by a few confections. "If anything is unsuited to your palates, the chefs in the kitchen can prepare something more to your liking..." he says, waiting for a reply, and then scurrying away.

"Lord Kirsch, of Miessen I presume? I had always wished to venture to your beautiful land but by the time I finished my diplomatic work in Glaem—I was a speechwriter for many years (fables don't always pay the bills, you see)—I was an old man. I'm afraid the heat would be too much for me now." Hargen delicately devours another sweet from the plate on the table beside his armchair, and listens to Kirsch's reply with great interest before turning to Clytemnestra,

"The Dekatos line did you say, my dear? Then you must be from The Crystal City! Truly a Wonder of Eldwizand. I have been there before and had the fortune to treat with a great many of its learned minds. And the name Dekatos certainly rings a bell." Hargen smiles thoughtfully.

"But, come, come. I am pained to correct ones of such stature, but I must insist that I am of no noble birth, my lady. In fact, I was born right here in Allsatalos. My mother was a chambermaid, my father a footman; the Marquis himself married them in a small ceremony, as was his way. It is an enchanting place to grow up, and probably why I fell in love with those old epics as I did. The Marquis was kind enough to grant me a small cabin a valley over from here to retire in, but he always was a kind and thoughtful elf.

"And, it would be my pleasure to give you a tour of the castle. At least, as much as we are allowed..."

Though, you remember being in the portrait room which was filled with pictures of elves, Spycrist did rush you through it fairly quickly. But in that fleeting glance, you don't remember any blatantly obvious gray elves.
Megamax (with Lady Lilet, West Wing Hallway, Second Floor)

Lady Lilet listens to Megamax's comforting words with a face, for ounce, devoid of grin and bearing an almost serene look of contemplation. Finally, though, a much calmer, warmer smile creeps over her features.

"Ah, how sweet you are. But I really am giving a thought to my two girls..." At this, she pulls open a locket with two tiny portraits of teenage girls of noble features, both bearing coy smiles reminiscent of their mother. "My eldest is set to be formally presented to society next spring. You cannot imagine how I'm fretting over the details. I hope Yzonde can't make it, but what if she does...?"

Lady Lilet has brought you to the northwestern corner of the hallways, where it turns south back down towards the magicians' guest suites. The deep-set door to the northwestern corner suite is open and Lilet's servants are busy within, unloading trunks and hanging silk gowns and lining out far more shoes than anyone could possibly wear in two days.

A notion which obviously rolls into a scheme finally brings the toothy grin back to Lady Lilet's face. She takes both Megamax's hands in her own, "Say, Meagan, you're a magician, too! Now say, if I could impress upon you and Victor to attend? That might just be something. Listen, Bleaksburg might be a dreadful name but its quite a charming town with all its steepled roofs and winding, scenic streets down the mountainside..."

Despite how youthful she seems, Lady Lilet is actually in her late 30s to early 40s.

I'm kind of leaving it hanging in the air for a moment at Lilet's door, because, depending on how circuitous a route Victor takes, he may spot you (or you, him) coming up the hallway from the servants' door down near Room #60.

[Metastachydium]

Kirsch nods solemnly and taps his chest with his right palm lightly. Indeed. To encounter a fellow scholar of such renown as yourself, Lord Hargen, and almost by happenstance, I might add – this is a rare blessing. Clearly, the fates are smiling upon us today. he says softly, and for once, his words carry no sting. I too would be much obliged if you would perhaps agree to share at least a tiny fraction of the fruits born by your extensive research on this fair region in general and, of course, on this very edifice in particular. the lizard continues, taking a few steps closer and smiling pleasantly. If Hargen Orq knows something (and how could he not know?), their time will be richly rewarded – not that talking to a man like Hargen isn't its own reward, of course.
They must, however stay on high alert. Kirsch last saw Neomund lurking hereabouts. In any case, the magician looks around the room as if inspecting its decorations to see if anyone gives them undue attention.


Spot: [roll0]
Listen: [roll1]

[Metastachydium]

It will do. the lizard answers the servant's question curtyly and with little interest in his voice before turning back to Hargen.
Why, certainly: Miessen has a generous sun. Needless to say, my people do not resent that either; I can, however, see how those with a warmer blood than ours can find it less than comfortable. That said, were you to not to venture any farther into our lands than the mountains of the north, the weather would, perhaps, be more to your liking. I am confident that a reception worthy of Hargen Orq could be arranged if you choose to pay us a visit. The magician goes so far as to bow his head slightly as he speaks, his offer clearly a genuine one. When Hargen corrects Clytemnestra, the lizard's grin becomes a slight bit wider for a second. You are modest beyond what is reasonable, good sir. You deserve that title, and deserve it well, regardless of your blood. Kirsch would usually never even think about questioning the time-tested institution of birthright: these words, even as he speaks them, ring strange in his earholes. This wouldn't be the first exception he makes, however. He recalls the faces of Limne and Stator, and even that of Ebler and a sudden warmness fills him, making his scales shining even more brilliantly for a few brief moments, but he quickly collects himself. As for the tour, Kirsch picks up a a treat from the plate and inspects it briefly before gracefully placing it into his mouth and devouring it in an instant. the pleasure would be entirely ours.

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

The elf settled into a more comfortable stance. She took advantage of the circle of chairs in front of the hearth, drawing a smaller, straight-backed chair over and settling into it.

"Lord Kirsch could not have put it better, sir. Some titles are best earned. Indeed, I am doubly excited to hear that you grew up in this place. Growing up in the Crystal City - well spotted, sir! - I got to know nooks and secrets that no laird or mayor ever did. You get the feel of a place in your bones. I feel stronger and clearer in my thinking each time I go back."


And it has been too long.

"I am enticed by what you do not say, Master Hargen. What parts of the castle have been sealed away. Certainly, I understand the desire of circumspection with respect to such temporary guests as me, but sure you are as one of the household.
What door would be shut even to you?"

She leaned in.

"Or is this a topic best left to a quiet moment on a balcony tomorrow?"

[Erelamar]

Clytemnestra and Kirsch

At Kirsch's words, Hargen may in fact blush but waves it off as just the heat of the fireplace getting to him. "Your generosity of spirit is a credit to your house, dear fellow." And if Kirsch didn't know better, Hargen may be the first mammal in this strange land who may actually be able to discern the meaning behind the shifts in the magician's pigmentation.

At Clytemnestra's hint at privacy, Hargen peeks back around the wingback of his chair. He notices an elven guard glaring into the room from his station in the grand foyer next to the eastward corridor. The old fabulist chuckles to himself as he settles back into his chair. "Not to worry, my dear. There's little I could say that isn't already in the public domain, as it were. No one worries about anybody talking to me.

"But, as you say, there are not many places I have not been in Allsatalos, Castle of Locked Doors, but still they exist. I believe you might have guessed one of the party's involved. Let me tell you a brief story:

"I was born here, spent my youth here, and then left for many years, with decades at a time between my visits. The Marquis was first my lord, then my mentor, and later in life, my friend. Even as a boy, I remember him being so very old, even for an elf. But he too, understood the importance of those places here which must remain quiet, and such was my respect for him, I never attempted to breach them—even at my most reckless. And now, after his death, they are still being watched, for you see... I am eighty-one years old, and from my earliest memories to all my subsequent visits, up until this present day... Father Neomund has always been here."

[Metastachydium]

Kirsch emits a short, dry and somewhat sardonic laugh. This fine man of exemplary diligence has made it abundantly clear that we have already piqued his not entirely welcome interest. he then leans somewhat closer to Hargen and Clytemnestra, lowering his voice even further. As did the good Father ours. We are not oblivious of his true affiliation. two semicircular clumps of scales darken to a hue closer to black than they are to green under the lizard's eyes. Speaking of which, did your extensive research, perchance, reveal when exactly the… society in question found its way into the late Marquis's – may his rest be peaceful – domain?

[Erelamar]

Clytemnestra and Kirsch (with Hargen, Western Salon)

Hargen sits back for a moment in reflection at Kirsch's question. He sips his brandied hot chocolate. Servers enter the Western Salon and finish tidying up all but what has been laid out for the magicians and the fabulist, then retreat once more into the kitchen.

"If I had to advance a guess, as well as I can, then that organization of which you speak has been here since very nearly its inception. Of course, when exactly that took place is debatable. But what is known is that it has to do with the Skeletal Scourge in the year 935 ANFS. Even the most amateur historian knows of it, though we do not give it so much thought now, more than a hundred years later. But those seventeen months were the grimmest times since the loss of the Conclave.

"Frosted skeletons, thousands—hundreds of thousands—descended from somewhere among the southern Colossus' Stair. Many kingdoms were shattered, never to be seen again—the Free Commots, that disparate land of independent villages and fiefs, are all that remain of once-mighty nations. All of Eldwizand eventually came to join the battle, even the Overkingdom and Alliance put aside their differences to face this common foe."

Hargen seems almost as if he wants to stop there, but something of the old storyteller in him urges him onward. He finishes his mug of chocolate, and sighing, he continues, "In the end, great heroes of that age ventured into those icy peaks of the southern Colossus' Stair and put an end to the source of the skeletal legions, whatever and wherever it was..." His pale eyes look from Kirsch's face to Clytemnestra, searching for something—a dawning of realization? "Those same heroes would never say. But what is indisputable is, afterward, they went to Glaem and broke into the Tower of Infinite Calm, claiming it as their headquarters. Whatever they found within, like the secret source of the Skeleton Scourge, they never share. But not more than a few years later, were the now-familiar gray-clad knights seen spreading across the lands: hunting, seizing, and guarding places throughout Eldwizand. More of which are unknown, than known, is my belief."

With some strain, Hargen Orq leans closer to the magicians, beckoning them to do likewise. And here, the brassy voice lowers to a throaty whisper, "The Tolerance found Allsatalos to be one of their easier acquisitions, no that is not the right word... 'Compacts forged,' perhaps. For the Marquis and his gray elf line had already been performing the same duty which the Tolerance wished to perform here themselves."

[Geeksthenewsexy]

Having successfully made it to his rooms, Victor takes a little time searching the room for anything interesting, letting the mindless task soothe his thoughts until he had fully collected himself. Wanting to take advantage of the information Spycrist gave him, he runs through his tentative head one last time before leaving. Find the area Spycrist told me of in order to gather what information I can, impersonate the man once I've seen him, and bully the staff to trash his reputation with the lady. Or at least ensure all his wine is thoroughly watered. Never anger those who prepare your food and drink. Ha! Nodding to himself, he rolls his shoulders, cracks his knuckles, and carefully peers out his doorframe as he slowly cracks the door a sliver.


Search the room [roll0]
Spot anything in the hallway [roll1]

[Geeksthenewsexy]

After listening for a moment, Victor winces slightly. Taking a deep breath as if to fortify himself for what it to come, he opens the door fully and strides out into the hallway with a casual gait.

[Metastachydium]

The Great Heroes of our age. Kirsch thinks to himself, the ghost of a smirk playing in the corners of his mouth. He'll give them threats to defend against, he sure will. He's finally on the right track and once Hargen shows them around (and the amicable fellow does seem to be more than willing to do so), it will just be a matter of time to look into those Locked Doors. He'll have to find a pretext for lengthening his visit, but that should not be incredibly difficult – supposing the lady gets a say and his colleagues will not turn against him. But for now, that seems unlikely.
When Hargen beckons to him, the lizard leans closer and listens even more intently than before, making sure he doesn't divide his attention between the fabulist's words and his own thoughts on strategic considerations. Intriguing. he replies to the old man thoughtfully, his scales fading to a modest gray-green. Now, provided watching over the sealed chambers is a duty the late lord's entire line took upon itself, they must have kept records of what they chose to keep hidden, lest a heir fail to grasp the proper weight of this duty – just as the Tolerance would, in all probability, keep similar records on the objects of interest they oversee. Whether these records are, or were, as it may be, oral or written is certainly of quite some significance… he wonders aloud. But I digress.the magician closes his eyes for a moment as he gently touches his sharp little teeth with the tip of his tongue. Clearly, you see, all this knowledge and the very obligation the possession of this knowledge entails must have been passed over from generation to generation a number of times. Who, I ask, was meant to inherit it from the late Marquis? Or did he elect to surrender the this responsibility to the Father and to those that the Father serves? the lizard's eyes pop open and his scales regain their lustre in an instant as he looks at Hargen Orq, with an expression of strange, almost feverish curiosity.


Kirsch is trying to recall anything about the Marquis and his family:
Knowledge (nobility and royalty) [roll0]
Knowledge (history) [roll1]

[Ripptor]

[QUOTE=Ripptor;25102151]
http://i.vgy.me/waS64S.png (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449194)

Spying Victor walking down the hall, Megamax waves at him as they come together in the hall. "Victor! I had heard you were around here somewhere, have you met our Lady Lilet?"

Having broken with the others, she can only hope that she's given them enough time to find what they need from their rendezvous. "We were just discussing what to do before the festivities. The griffon ride here was quite beautiful, but it's left me rather windswept." Squeezing herself closer to Lilet's arm, she continues, "I had caught Duke Orbal heading off to the Spa in the South Wing, and thought we might go freshen up. Would you care to join us?"

Presumably the spa is something akin to a middle-ages public bathhouse, and it would be mixed bathing? Otherwise Meagan would have trouble introducing the two to one another :smallamused:

I'm also somewhat interested in the dynamic between Lilet and Orbal, they seem like they could be interesting!

[Geeksthenewsexy]

A slight hitch in Victor's step at the unexpected news is quickly and deftly turned into an extravagantly sweeping bow. "Ah, but of course! Lady Lilet has done me the great service of providing the very best of conversation this evening. I had almost started to feel bad for monopolizing such a treasure before a small matter drew me away a bit ago, allowing others to share such a bounty as I've had thus far." Flashing a beaming grin at the lady in question, he turns to Megamax, "Ah, a griffon would be a fine conveyance indeed! I myself decided to take the low road in a more meandering fashion. The views might not be quite as majestic, but you get to enjoy them for much longer, truly appreciating them, and the odd highwayman served as ample entertainment and practice, as it turned out. Quite invigorating!" Gesturing with his cane vaguely towards the south wing, he continues, "As a matter of fact, now that my room has been seen to, I was actually headed to the spa myself just now. I would love to accompany such a pair of visions, surely." Gesturing broadly with his cane, indicating that he will follow, he inclines his head.

[Ripptor]

http://i.vgy.me/waS64S.png (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449194)

Megamax grins listening to Victor's overgenerous demeanor. "I envy you, Highwaymen are such wonderful practice. I haven't had the opportunity to really let loose in a while..." The Demon-girls free hand flexes it's fingers for a moment, itching for some fun.

Accepting his offer to come along, Meagan walks past him back towards his room. "If you could be a dear, I haven't any soaps or oils. Could you check and see if you have enough in your room for us?" Leaning on Lady Lilet as much as she may be leaning back on her, the girls make a wonderful pleading pair.

To the Spa!

Meagan (and Lilet?) don't have anything from their own rooms, towels oils or otherwise... Orbal was taking everything with him when they passed, but hopefully they can scavenge a towel and some cleansers from Victor, or the Spa itself :smallsmile:

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

Clytemnestra smiles.

"Ah. You are a brave man, Kirsch, to wander unarmed into the intricate traditions and laws of elven inheritance."

Who knew that Clytemnestra's point in Profession (Lawyer) might actually see play? What are the elven laws surrounding inheritance and conservatorship? ​[roll0]

Or knowledge history?: [roll1]
Or knowlege local? [roll2]

I'm not sure what applies best.

[Erelamar]

Clytemnestra and Kirsch (with Hargen in the West Salon)

"A brave one indeed, Lord Kirsch, as Lady Clytemnestra suggests..." Again, the same look falls over the old man's face, the hesitancy. "I know..." and Hargen struggles, but not with his memory. He peers into his empty mug but eventually sighs.

"The Marquis' cousin, the former castle magician here, his parents were meant to have Allsatalos, indeed, and all of the March as well, but they perished. Sometime between the end of the Skeletal Scourge and my birth, they were out sailing aboard the castle's skyship, as was their passion: sailing, singing, living joyous lives. They were beset by cloud giant raiders, their ship destroyed and their lives ended."

Hargen looks to each of you, and there is something of a pleading in his pale eyes. "And what I'm about to tell you next, you must not think too harshly of the Marquis; he came from much more difficult times... Late one night, as I neared manhood, I found him deep in his cups in the Eastern Garden, staring at his sword upon the ground with tears in his eyes. I knew of the fate of the cousin's parents, all in Allsatalos knew, but at that time, the Marquis confided in me the aftermath.

"He armed himself with vengeance in his heart and he called in the final favor owed his family from centuries long ago by a silver dragon which lairs in the Fraal. Together, they hunted down the cloud giant clan, and in his rage, he slew them all: lords and soldiers, mothers and children, and he crashed their cloud-keep into the waters of the Hekaton Straights. When he returned, he put away his arms and vowed never to take them up again.

"But that was not the only source of his peculiar melancholy which I experienced all my life; their son, the magician cousin, was in no way shape-or-form ready, or of the temperament, to take on the responsibilities of Allsatalos. Even after training at the Incrementon. The Marquis knew this, he said, and continued, 'At least we have Father Neomund. Who would ever have imagined a snow elf a godsend?' and bitter was his laugh through his tears."

Hargen Orq sits back in his armchair, obviously winded. "Perhaps, that is the best I can manage in answer to your query." He takes out a handkerchief and dabs his forehead which had begun to perspire, but not from the heat of the hearth. "I believe, I must be getting to my room and rest if I am to make tonight's events at all..."

Megamax and Victor (with Lady Lilet in the Guest Suite Hallway)

Lady Lilet's toothy grin spread wide at Victor's words. "Oh, isn't he a charmer. You may have to watch out for yourself," and she nudges Megamax enough to jostle the magician.

At the mention of the guest spa, Lady Lilet finally disentangles herself from her tiefling escort. "Ah, ha-ha, you wicked things. Gawking at an old lady? No, no. I believe I will take my ablutions in my chambers, along with a light nap, I think." And her yawn while exaggerated—as is her fashion with most things—does not appear to be entirely feigned. "Besides, and this knowledge comes from experience, a bellyful of brandy and chocolate do not mix well with extreme heat. I'd like to faint, I fear." She laughs adding the aside, "And, I'm more than certain, I'm going to be sharing Orby's company rather a lot these two days... at least if I want to get a word in edgewise with Emalia."

At Megamax's mention of necessities, Lady Lilet waves carelessly, "Don't worry a drop on any of that, honey. They've got all you need in there, softest towels and robes you've ever felt, masseuses greased to the elbows with scented oils and cooling creams; they'll even prestigi-, presdig-, oh listen to me! They'll magic your clothes clean while you settle in for a soak." She makes to retreat back to the open door of her guest suite in the corner of the hallway. "Just down that way to the end, darlings!"

[Geeksthenewsexy]

"Letting loose can definitely be cathartic, but the only thing I intend to let loose at this moment is the tension in my shoulders from a long journey." Making noises of sympathy and polite distress that she won't be joining them, Victor bows slightly as Lady Lilet makes her departure... and immediately looks quite relieved once she is out of sight for a moment before recovering. A hint of a sardonic smile flashes across his lips as he muses aloud, "I really am looking forward to that spa."

[Metastachydium]

When Hargen recounts the Marquis's comment on snow elves, Kirsch has the sudden urge to laugh as Athanas's surly, bald head springs to his mind. But he quickly reminds himself that this is no time for laughing.
Of course. he says simply but pleasantly instead upon hearing Hargen excuse himself. We shall pester you no longer. I am immensely grateful for your time as it is, and I am certain that Clytemnestra shares this sentiment. The lizard gracefully moves out of the way before adding I sure hope you will be able to rejoin us this evening, or barring that, tomorrow, for that little walk.

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

Clytemnestra's voice is distant.

"So the magic-using cousin is likely the heir to this palace, but was made unwelcome. But now his whereabouts are unknown. Fraal is ruled by Emalia. And winter is coming."

Taking her cue from the ever-gracious Lord Kirsch, Clytemnestra struggles to her feet and she seems to be dragging herself back into the present.

"Indeed, sir. We have taken advantage of your generous spirit overlong. Would you like company back to your room?"

As they strolled - either towards Hargen's room or onwards, depending on his wishes - Clytemnestra found an opportunity to murmur to Kirsch.

"The missing piece to this puzzle, a shape that begins to confound, is the Lady Emalia herself. The Emalia I knew would certainly never skip a party, especially one she herself was throwing, nor would she be content to let someone else greet her guests. She has changed, or her circumstances have."

[Metastachydium]

Kirsch shakes his head slowly with a faint, bitter smile on his face. When the cousin was found wanting, the late Lord resolved to leave the castle in more capable hands, or so it would appear, and at any rate, the unusual inheritor he would seem to have chosen exercises control over it since the Marquis's departure. The dominion of the kind Lady over Allsatalos and, perhaps, over its holdings as well is but nominal. You certainly remember the incident that Lady Lilet recounted, that of her will being overruled by the decrees of the Father. the lizard folds his arms behind his back before going on. Newly ennobled and of limited magical prowess, the kind Lady is of no concern to the true lord, the one that undertook the task of receiving us in her stead, and even if she could remove the good steward, that would achieve little: it would, by necessity precipitate a violent backlash that she would be powerless to defend against. Kirsch looks up at the ceiling in thought. Emalia is no fool, or at least she wasn't when they would occasionally meet. It is quite probable that she understands as much, and this knowledge must be a heavy burden. But then, he adds, his scales shifting to a friendly hue of green. I strongly hope I am merely underestimating her. I sure would not be the first person to make such a mistake.

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

Clytemnestra speaks softly, clearly enjoying this exchange.

"I'm not certain that we share the same understanding of elven law, Lord Kirsch. It's not clear to me that the late lord COULD have disinherited his cousin, even if he had wanted to. And if no substitute heir of suitable blood has been publicly named - and surely Hargen would have known if there had - then anyone else would generally be seen as a steward at best. Possession is, in this case, not nine tenths of the law.

"Of course, if someone is willing to disregard the actual law, then by definition they will not be constrained by it. But that doesn't mean that it wouldn't carry weight among the elven nobility."

[Metastachydium]

Kirsch receives the lecture with a smile, deciding not to take offense. I will readily defer to your expertise so far as such legal matters are concerned, and permit me to assure you that I spoke figuratively when I referred to the lizard lowers his voice suddenly the true lord of this exquisite noble residence. That said, I must stress that Allsatalos is more than a mere heap of stones and were that fine elven gentlemen to press his claim to this estate, he would inherit little more than that. Kirsch unfolds his arms and makes a vague gesture with his clawed right. Likewise, the good Father demonstrably has the means to keep this cousin disinterested in spending his time hereabouts, while I continue to posit that it is not within his power to drive the Father away. The magician clears his throat and folds his arms again. But let us steer back to the calmer waters of elven customs. Would you argue that the cousin enjoys precedence over the wife in this particular scenario?

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

The elven woman smiles and leads Lord Kirsch back toward the guest Library that Spycrist had introduced her to, and continues the conversation here (once she confirms that the room is still unoccupied)

"I've already swept this room for listening devices. We should be able to speak freely here.

"I believe that your analysis of the realpolitik of the situation is completely correct. In title, Emalia rules this land, and in theory the cousin is heir to this estate. But functionally, it seems likely that Neomund and his followers have solidified a hold over this place.

"For reasons not yet clear to me, Duke Orbal seemed very interested in me on the way here. Perhaps he thought that, as a grey elf, I am more part of the power structures of this place than I really am. He is looking for money and power to counterbalance the end of his regency over his son's affairs. Perhaps he sees his next pivot point, so to speak, as being here, either with Emalia or within a new household structures. Certainly, though, he evinced none of the distaste for magic that Neomund seems to have. And if he's half the warrior that Lady Wassername described, he'd be a useful ally in case the need to help reassert lawful authority becomes...realpolitik."


Metastychydium, my eyes are fairly crap. If we can take as assumed that the two of us are speaking quietly to each other, could we just keep to the default font size? I have to adjust the page magnification each time just to read your posts.

[Erelamar]

Clytemnestra and Kirsch (Western Salon)

Hargen does struggle a bit to get to his feet and picks up an old walking stick that had been resting out of sight. He waves off Clytemnestra's offer of escort, "I'm not so far gone, yet, dear lady. Besides, the Father knows how my knees are these days with all the stairs and arranges a special room for me on the ground floor of the South Wing, just off the Portrait Gallery. I'm quite fine to make do on my own. Gods, I'd better be. No, go and find something to amuse yourselves, please. The South Wing Library is just off that way past the Games Room."

He turns from where he's achingly made his walk to the doorway to the Grand Foyer—briefly interrupting the magicians' murmuring—and he lays a hand over his heart. "I have it on good authority, it stocks some of the finest fables in the land." He smiles and stiffly bows, "Lady Clytemnestra, Lord Kirsch..." And the old man shuffles away toward the eastern corridor off the Grand Foyer, leaning heavily upon his stick. The elven guard watches him pass, but says nothing.

Clytemnestra leads Kirsch back to the First Hall with the grand staircases. She easily pieces together, from Spycrist's meandering tour, the way back to the Guest Library (i.e. the South Wing Library). Both magicians see the cold, silent corridor which leads north from the First Hall deeper into the ground level of the castle's citadel. Kirsch, however, having come this way earlier, notices this time an elven guard stands at the corridor's mouth. He stands at attention, and he stands watching.

The pair of magicians ascend the stairs, the grand doors at the second story landing are open and servants are hard at work in some kind of theater. They are dusting the cushioned benches and setting up props upon a stage at the far end. From there, you find the balcony level above the Grand Foyer; the servants are streaming between the theater and the door Spycrist had lead Clytemnestra and Megamax through a few hours ago, all manner of brooms and mops and polishing rags in their hands. The lizardman and elf make it to the "games room" across the balcony: billiards tables, cards tables, and even a skittle alley are scattered around throughout. And looming above it all are the stuffed heads of mountainous monsters (behir, peryton, and the like). From there, they cross into the library: a wide, long wood-paneled room bursting with books up to its vaulted ceiling. Tall ladders on rollers slide across every wall save where more great windows are set: those to the north looking down on the wisteria garden and to the south out over the mountains and the vacant Skywalk. Leather couches and deep, comfy chairs wait empty.

Clytemnestra and Kirsch are alone in this chamber. The echo of the servants can be heard hustling back out between the Grand Foyer's balcony and second-floor landing, but they are very far from earshot, at least anything of a civil volume.

I've opened up another room on the second-floor map. The servants are streaming between the western door in 49 and the newly revealed "theater" in 69.

Clytemnestra and Kirsch are alone in 51, and 50 (the game/trophy room) is also empty.

[Ripptor]

http://i.vgy.me/waS64S.png (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449194)

Megamax waves Lady Lilet off, "We'll surely see you soon!"

Walking further with Victor, she echoes with his excitement. "Indeed, I am quite certain it will be as wonderful as the rest of the facilities have been so far. Especially if Lilet is to be believed. I could use some strong hands on this body after the last few days."

Meagan looks Victor up and down, once again taking her unseen servant's arm down the hall. "Speaking of pains, I assume you've had the chance to meet Father Neomund? The Tolerance has been making us magi feel very welcome so far. I can't wait to see what we have in store for this evening."

To the spa + massages!

[Metastachydium]

Kirsch pays little attention to the games room beyond ascertainig that it is empty; rather, having made sure to close its door, he heads straight for the library, granted, at a slower place than what he'd prefer so that Clytemnestra can keep up without exerting herself. He always felt at home among books, and that they managed to slip in here unattended is a welcome development, as well as an opportunity that might not present itself so comfortably later.
While it might be unlikely that they'll find anything truly revelative in the guest library, the lizard would rather ensure that it is not for a lack of trying, and he begins circling the room, methodically scanning the contents of the shelves.


I'm not sure that it's designed for this kind of thing, but here's a Search check: [roll0] (Kirsch is looking for historical accounts, anything that can give him a picture of the building phases of the castle, anything about the Conclave and anything that stands out/seems useful for trying to locate the entry point to the Tracery)
as well as a Knowledge (local): [roll1] to see what Kirsch knows about how libraries usually arrange their books in millieus like this
with a Knowledge (architecture and engineering): [roll2] for roughly the same, and to see if there's something unusual about the room.

[Geeksthenewsexy]

Victor can't quite keep the amused smirk off of his face. "That depends entirely on your definition of 'meeting' someone, I suppose. He introduced himself, and I gave him my name in kind. And that was that - I haven't seen him since. I've actually spent more time chatting with Lady Lilet than anyone else, so far. She's introduced me to a few of her friends, as well." Giving a nonchalant shrug, Victor glances back down the hallway where they left Lady Lilet's company... and he seems to pick up the pace just a smidgen.

[Erelamar]

Megamax and Victor (Guest Spa, Second Floor, West Wing)

Free from Lady Lilet, the magicians follow the long West Wing hallway past their rooms and to the final doors. Even just pulling them open exposes Megamax and Victor to a shock of humidity. A pair of elves, their blond hair pulled up in messy buns, wearing simple white outfits, offer greetings in unison.

With chalkboards in hand, they run through a list of services: massages, skin treatments, wet and dry saunas, and relaxing pools. They speak of a series of chambers to pass through: the salt room, the gem room, the clay room. Halfway through the questionnaire, the elves hand Megamax and Victor chilled water in crystal bottles which the magicians didn't even know they already needed until it was given to them. They inquire if you prefer iced tea or something stronger when decompressing in the steam baths.

If asked, they offer that three other guests are currently making their way through the spa, the first of which should be reaching the steam baths within the hour. The elves take down each of the magician's choices and offer them lockers for their possessions, and direct them to the changing rooms and the whole process begins...

Sixty-five minutes later, after the last deep-tissue massage, Megamax and Victor reunite. The blond elves—who could say if they were even the same ones that greeted Megamax and Victor when they arrived? so similar they all look—have wrapped the magicians in down-soft robes, given each a tall glass of iced tea or a flute of champagne as requested, and ushered them into a steamy, tiled bath hall. Magical columns lining the chamber glow white-hot and water runs in sheets down the walls, either evaporating or disappearing into invisible troughs. Two long pools stretching into the haze are separated by a tall dividing hedge of broadleaf plants and sweet-smelling flowers, dripping with condensation. Megamax's elven attendant motions for her to go to one side, while Victor's own does likewise with the other. Apparently, the spa is sensitive to human notions of modesty.

Megamax can hear talk bouncing around the walls of the room, but of the women's pool, she encounters only one other figure relaxing in the bubbling waters: a thick-built human woman, still wearing a minty face mask complete with cucumber slices over her eyes. She listens to the men's pool chatter beyond the hedge in silence. If she has detected Megamax's presence, she gives no sign.

Victor sees the conversation is coming from two blurry silhouettes relaxing in the water. At his approach, he hears a rumbling voice, "Look here, Orbal. Another gentleman with the sense to make use of the castle's facilities. Come, join us, stranger!" The man speaking is an older stately sort, plump and with a receding hairline, his skin scoured to a radiant red.

"Yes, of course, Baron Vorgus is right. Come, we speak of manly things," Duke Orbal adds with a smirk, delicately sipping from a champagne flute. The portion of his sinewy torso exposed above the foam is a crisscross of battle scars; some, one could imagine, which should have been fatal.

Once you finish the steam bath ending of the spa, you both will benefit from a +2 competence bonus to Str, Dex, and Con ability checks and Str-, Dex-, and Con-based skill checks for the next 24 hours.

[Metastachydium]

HIs suspicions confirmed, Kirsch is a little disheartened. The books on the shelves are pretty – and pretty much worthless. However, the magician is determined not to be the sore loser that quits fuming when the job is but half done. He quickly scans through the shelves bearing works of fiction as well, shelves that he largely ignored before. The titles he sifts through are as meaningless and just as useless to him as those in the rest of the library, but then, he happens upon a familiar name on the ornate blue cover of The Octarium of Hargen Orq. Recalling the fabulist's parting words, the lizard flashes a satisfied little smile and carries the thick volume to the nearest table of comfortable height. You would not let me down, would you, Master Hargen? he thinks to himself, opening the book carefully.

[Ripptor]

https://i.vgy.me/dtFVGC.png (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449194)

Meagan parts ways with Victor, availing herself of the massage and gem room before reuniting only to be separated once more. Carrying her ice-cold tea into the sultry water of the pool, the demon pouts slightly at the lost opportunity to mix. In the coven, the red witches were given full rein over the bath, with male consorts allowed in at their discretion. It appears that she'll have to talk or listen through the vegetative wall if she wants to keep up with Orbal...

Seeing the built woman already listening against the hedge on her own, Meagan quietly slips over and positions herself beside her, hanging her robe on an extended broadleaf stem before settling deeper into the waters. Sipping at her tea to stay hydrated, she reclines her head back against the hedge as well, closing her eyes to match her companion as she listens intently for the Duke and his company.


I want to avoid another conversation if possible, to focus on the men's pool...

Move Silently [roll0], to quietly move + match the other woman in place and pose, like a child mirroring their mother.

Spa Day: +2 Str, Dex, Con checks / skills

[Geeksthenewsexy]

His stylish hat 'disappearing' at some point during the changing process, Victor's hair is instead now tied back with a braided leather cord as he devests himself of his clothing. Clothing that looks decidedly more shabby in this receptacle provided than when he was wearing it. The only other thing he keeps with him as he arrives at the baths is his reddish crystal shard, inscribed with arcane symbols and banded with mithral, hanging from a small silver chain around his neck.

Hearing the call from the two strangers, Victor makes his way towards them, sipping lightly on his flute of champagne. "Manly things you say - how could I possibly refuse? I've near been assaulted by the excitable fluttering and buzzing of the court ladies since arriving and this was the only place I could think of to escape their fair clutches. And to my delight, there is at last a manly peace." With a light chuckle, he flashes a toothy grin and makes his way into the water to join his new bathing compatriots.


Hat of Disguise shifted in to a hair throng. Aside from the Hat of Disguise, he only retains his Empowered Spellshard.

[Erelamar]

Megamax and Victor (Guest Spa, West Wing, Second Floor)

Perhaps her muscles are still too loose, but Megamax's attempts at slipping into the tub unnoticed seem to fail. Luckily, besides a slight tilting of the head at the detection of movement, the other woman makes no comment. She never even takes a peek out from under the cucumber slices over her eyes.

Beyond the hedge wall, it is easy for both to hear, "Quite right, quite right, just so," the pudgy nobleman agrees and sips his champagne. "The frills of an elven palace are one thing, but the ladyfolk outnumber the men two-to-one at Emalia's parties—"

"An arrangement not so displeasing elsewhere," Duke Orbal interrupts with a grin.

His companion thinks on it for a moment, screwing his face up in confusion. Then burst out laughing, "What a cad you are, Orbal! Ah, yes, introductions. This is Duke Orbal of Bruckwald. I am Baron Vorgus Vollenveen, and no-no, before you ask, Countess Yzonde is my sister. My much older sister." His chuckling resumes. He pats his brow with a washcloth. "Who might you be, fine sir?"

Once answered, the Baron continues, "But quite right, manly things, we speak of matters of statecraft and hunting. How I do enjoy hunting, early in the morning up in the blinds. A sip of whiskey as dawn breaks, then the beaters and dogs drive out the quarry. I've shown the Duke my crossbow; had it custom-made by a master arbalist in Chinyere. Manly things indeed."

Duke Orbal's smile, while pleasant, does border on the sarcastic. Victor might catch his eyes rolling from time to time. "Yes, Baron. Manly things." The Duke increases the volume of his voice, "But I'm afraid, sir, we do not speak in peace. Dominique have you caught up with us over there! Though, in reality, Lady Dominique is more 'one of the boys' than most of the men at Allsatalos!" His grin returns and he brings the champagne flute up such that the bubbles likely tickle his nose.

Beside Megamax, the woman speaks, her strong voice not needing to be raised to carry through the shrubbery, "I'm as much a Lady as you are a Duke, Orbal."

[Ripptor]

https://i.vgy.me/9g7qrn.png (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449194)

Meagan snuffles at the woman's sudden retort, so simultaneously sharp and blunt. Dominique and a Vollenveen, what an auspicious circumstance!

Her laughter almost certainly audible through the hedges, Megamax leans a bit further back to call out herself, "Careful Orby! The Cleaver's of the mood to cut you down clear through these hedges, and then poor little me would need to find something to wear..."

Rolling her head sideways to Dominique, she smiles at the cucumber slices that would usually be looking back at her. "Megamax, High Daughter of the Red Coven. A pleasure to finally make your acquaintance." She'll wink with her one visible eye, even if she keeps the cucumbers on... After all, Meagan can see through her eyepatch!

Meagan has literally zero idea if Dominique is going to find her nickname charming or not, but lets try to play it as cute as we can!

If it's supposed to be a 'secret' then hopefully her smile just seems 'knowing' rather than threatening, but she's risky :smallbiggrin:

Diplomacy to make nice with the new acquaintance, taking 10 for Diplomacy 25 (Lost +2 from her Glamerweave Cloak)

On the note of lost clothing: Like Kirsh, Meagan has left most of her trinkets behind excepting her horn-clasp headband, eyepatch and signet-ring.

Presumably Baubie is not allowed (?) and is sleeping safe in her cloak's hammerspace...
BUT if Baubie is allowed she'll keep the dragonkin close! He'd love the heat, I'm sure!

Spa Day: +2 Str, Dex, Con checks / skills

[Erelamar]

Megamax and Victor (Guest Spa, West Wing, Second Floor)

"... the Cleaver's of the mood to cut you down..." and it's like the oxygen is sucked from the steamy room. Victor watches Baron Vorgus' mouth hang open such that a dribble of champagne rolls down his chin. Duke Orbal's grin does not disappear but his surprised eyes stare at the hedge wall in expectation.

Dominique's head rolls to face Megamax's direction as she finishes speaking. The green face mask and cucumber eyes take on a menacing quality. There is a healthy silence, then Dominique emits a bark of amusement followed so closely by Orbal's own laughter less keen ears would believe they happened in unison.

"They must be a hard-nosed lot in the Red Coven, wherever that is," Dominique says relaxing back into her previous repose.

"Th-the Valley of Fire," offers Baron Vorgus attempting an airy tone, though there is a concerned-ashamed-childish giggle contained in his voice.

"Oh," grunts Dominique. "I don't know much about it, I guess."

"But you have hit the nail on the head," Duke Orbal adds. "They are a 'hard-nosed lot,' indeed. Though we are blessed to have the fairest of their number joining us on this fine occasion." He raises his champagne flute in a toast only seen by the Vorgus and Victor.

Those words do cause Dominique the Cleaver's hand, recently scoured calluses still raw upon it, to rise from the foam and lift a cucumber long enough to takes a one-eyed gander at Megamax. She snorts at the sight, whether derogatory or in acceptance, it is hard to determine. The cucumber falls back into place.

Dominique begins, "Valley of Fire, huh? That's near where you're from, Orbal. Gnomon, on the edge of the Thousand Towers, right? Tell us again what you did there?"

Victor watches Baron Vorgus, finally cooling from the momentary tension, turn with all curiosity to the Duke, the fat around his eyes pulled wide with interest.

The Duke isn't smiling for once. "You'll have to forgive your tub-mate, Lady Maximus. She has a very blunt edge to her social skills. They lack practice, you see, with suitable sorts."

"Eat me, Orbal." Despite the thick mint-scented cream upon Dominique's face, Megamax can see she is smiling.

It is clear, Dominique the Cleaver is very unschooled in nobility and royalty (and history, geography, and local matters) if she could not connect the Red Coven to the Valley of Fire.

Gnomon is a major trade city on the near, northern edge of the Land of One-Thousand Towers across the gulf from the Sandrinel Alliance (so just off the world map I posted in the OOC's second post under the Geographical Information spoiler). Like all settlements there it is ruled by some kind of spellcasting overlord. Any further information about it would require knowledge checks.

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

Clytemnestra settles into silent, companionable reading and contemplation of the book she is sharing with Lord Kirsch. Only after they reach the end of the second story does she glance up at the window, then pulls herself to her feet.

"Ah! My apologies. I became absorbed. We should prepare for Lady Emalia's entrance. But first, perhaps one of us should bring Hargen's book to their room for some late-night reading. You found it, and I'd be happy to give you, ah, 'dibs', as the young folk say."

[Metastachydium]

Questions race through the lizard's mind as he reads through Hargen's rich text and he searches the halls and chambers of his mind for possible answers. The narrative contains curious notions, of course, as befits a work of fiction, but there must be some hidden grains of truth behind the words (or so he hopes). The invasion of the continent by the Cold Prince resembles the skeletal scourge Hargen brought up earlier this evening way too much to be a coincidence, for one thing.
Kirsch only looks up from the book when Clytemnestra reminds him that they have other business to attend to as well – it completely slipped out of the lizard's mind. He's not here for Emalia, after all. That said, if he wants to rely on her goodwill, he must not make that obvious for her – or for anyone else. Not even for his fellow magicians, in fact. Emalia must know them as well, and they might be more fond of her than he is. Accordingly, he nods to Clyyemnestra and closes the tome. Why, indeed. he says slowly. And indeed, if we are to carry off our prey, so to say, I should be the one to carry out the deed. The festivities are soon to begin and I move faster than yourself – meaning no offense, of course – and since carrying the Octarium about all evening would surely be way too cumbersome for my taste. Kirsch pauses shortly before continuing. Needless to say, if you happen to have the means to make this task less exerting and, I might add, less conspicuous, neither of us must return to the guest suits at this point.

I presume Clytemnestra parted with her bag back when she took over her room. In that case, Kirsch will cast Expeditous Retreat on himself, quickly hustle back to his room with the book, and quickly return without it.

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

The elf smiles.

"I have no need to return to my room, so will wait here while you, ah, dash off."

[Ripptor]

https://i.vgy.me/dtFVGC.png (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449194)

Megamax winks as she makes eye contact with Dominique, the woman's snort AND final Eat Me comment each making Meagan smile even wider.

To calm the tension, Meagan quotes her mother to Dominique and Orbal, "What worth the silver tongue, that gets not the job done?" In truth, this is actually a saying from her assassination teacher Mameim Bhustam, but Meagan has long ago misattributed it to Mother Enbach as it just sounds like something she would say.

For her own thoughts, Meagan sips her own tea before she continues, "What greater freedom can one attain than the ability to speak plainly their desires, without fear of retribution? It speaks to the power of the individual ... or at least the leniency of a society towards their elders!" Meagan laughs, recalling an elder nurse back in the Coven known to speak bawdy truths no other woman there would dare.

Going to wait to discuss Gnomon after a Knowledge check!

On Gnomon and it's rule,
1d20+5
1d20+5
1d20+5

Spa Day: +2 Str, Dex, Con checks / skills
...
Maybe the Forum will allow me to roll this time?

[Geeksthenewsexy]

Assuming a bemused expression, Victor sips at his champagne while the others spar with words. Attempting to get a sense of the people around him, he lounges in the bath, a polite spectator.


He's attempting to not attract undue attention as he gather's information on his 'target'.

[Ripptor]

https://i.vgy.me/dtFVGC.png (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449194)

After praising Dominique on her straight-forwardness, Megamax turns her attention back to Orbal and his sudden silence. "Gnomon is more the soft cheek by the hard nose though, a bit more comfortable. Except for the Barristers, they're still formidable by any of our standards."

Jesting at the earlier chauvinistic tones, "I'm sure our manly lords and ladies would enjoy the chance to duel one in a Crimson Court dispute. I'm told Orby can handle a dozen of the estate guards here at once." Meagan sips at her tea, smiling at her imagined Duke's face on the other side.




If Dominique replies or says anything interesting to Meagan, she'd be more than happy to wait to tease / dig into Orbal until afterwards, but JIC we're waiting on little miss Meagan here's her next to Orbal.

Spa Day: +2 Str, Dex, Con checks / skills

[Erelamar]

Kirsch and Clytemnestra (Guest Library, South Wing, Second Floor)

Kirsch makes his way back through the Trophy/Games Room and to the balcony above the Grand Foyer. At the archway into the second story landing of Allsatalos, the magician sees a throng of aristocrats mingling: along the railing of the Grand Stairs, at the wide-open doors to the Grand Meeting Hall, and some already sitting on the benches within. More nobles come in an uneven stream down the second-floor hallway which leads back to the guest suites. Servants stand everywhere at attention.

If it is Kirsch's intention to return to his room unnoticed with the large blue book, this does not appear to be an opportune time. A lizardman moving at accelerated speed is sure to draw the eyes of the crowd.

Megamax and Victor (Guest Spa, West Wing, Second Floor)

Duke Orbal leans his head back and stares up into the steam swirling around the tiled ceiling of the baths. He smirks. "I'm not so sure anywhere in the Thousand Towers could be described as a 'soft cheek.' Sure, the Hydromancer was more magnanimous than many of the other tyrants, but still..."

Baron Vorgus jumps in at the momentary hesitancy, "So it is true? You're from the Thousand Towers? What of this Hydromancer, did you ever meet him?"

Duke Orbal shakes his head. He takes a sip of champagne. "No, I did not, luckily enough. If something was serious enough for him to come down from his tower, you could bet Gnomon would end the day down more than a few of its populace."

Vorgus squints and seems to be thinking hard, at least for him. He says, "But, I thought you were from Bruckwald. You're the Duke—"

"Duke-Regent, until my son comes of age. My late wife was the Duchess. Her family was charged with managing the Alliance's embassy in Gnomon when we met. I assisted her with a delicate matter and the rest, as they say, is history. As to the embassy, I can't think of who runs it now... I haven't given Gnomon much thought in the last seventeen years."

At Megamax's words of the dueling display, Baron Vorgus emits a resigned sigh. "Of course all the best things happen when I don't attend!" He splashes the bubbling water. "How did you acquire such skill?"

"It was nothing, really." And here, Victor can see the grin finally return to the Duke's face. Megamax can almost feel the smugness from through the hedge wall. "And Lady Maximus has already made the connection, intentionally or not. I practiced law in Gnomon, that's where I learned to 'handle myself.' "

Dominique finally stirs beside Megamax, saying, "And how long did you practice law?"

"Eight years."

"Is that long?"

"In Gnomon it is."

"Ever lose a case?"

"I wouldn't be here if I had."

[Metastachydium]

Bluish patches appear under the lizard's eyes and on his forehead and he clicks his tongue, clearly displeased. Instead of conceding defeat however, he makes a few gestures with his free hand while muttering a few words of power. Within a heartbeat, his form vanishes from sight and the freshly invisible magician sets out to maneuver through the crowd.

Kirsch turns invisible! There's no stopping this lizard!

[Erelamar]

Megamax and Victor (Guest Spa, West Wing, Second Floor)

After about an hour more of idle chatter, during which Megamax acquits herself well with the nobles and Dominique, Duke Orbal rises from his tub to leave. This starts a domino as Baron Vorgus and Dominique, becoming aware of the time, decide to do so as well.

Baron Vorgus offers to Victor, "You don't say much my friend, but when you do it's to the point, and I salute you for it. It's a rare enough thing these days. And ta-ta to you la-, ah, to the fairer sex beyond the hedge. I cannot wait to see you all again at the festivities." Duke Orbal offers similar if a bit muted sentiments. He has grown quieter as the time in the baths stretched out. It's as if the Duke has become distracted by deep thought. Perhaps something that was said, but of the commonplace badinage, there has been little of significance since his revelation of his origins. Dominique departs with her characteristic silence, but sans cucumber slices, she does give Megamax a nod of recognition.

The spa patrons each redress themselves and return to their rooms. They can already hear the guest hallway echoing with a great many highborn voices speaking in excited tones.

Kirsch and Megamax (Guest Suite Hallway, West Wing, Second Floor)

Kirsch makes it through the noble crowd, dodging around the chattering pairs and trios of aristocrats walking down the long hallway from the west wing guest suites. He pads quickly but quietly to give off no sound from under the cloak of his invisibility. By either guards or visitors, he is confident he goes unnoticed.

He spots a few familiar, nameless faces on the journey but eventually steps aside as Duke Orbal escorts Lady Lilet towards the Grand Meeting Hall. There is a chilly silence between them.

Finally, all the way back to the furthest guest suites in the west wing, Kirsch arrives at his door. Luckily, it would seem the last of the nobles have departed this stretch of the corridor and he is alone.

As he goes to put his key in the lock, one of the nearby doors opens. Megamax emerges, looking very refreshed.

Clytemnestra (Guest Library, South Wing, Second Floor)

A few moments after Kirsch's departure with the Octarium of Hargen Orq, the east door of the library open (the one Clytemnestra knows leads to the indoor greenhouse she passed through with Spycrist). She hears a hard-edged monotone speaking as it does so, "Yes, and collect the analgesic herbs and prepare as many tea packets as you can for the inevitable hangovers..."

A snow elf with porcelain skin and long, stark white hair wearing far more ornate livery than any of the other servants appears in the doorframe. Clytemnestra knows it to be Father Neomund from his initial greeting in the Grand Foyer, so many hours ago. His deep black eyes catch sight of the magician, and though it appears he wishes to give further instructions, she has become his sole attention. The Father shuts the door to the herbaceous chamber and slowly approaches Clytemnestra.

"I believe we have not yet met, madam. I have Father Neomund, chief steward and chaplain of Allsatalos. I hope you are not lost, Lady...? Are you in need of an escort to the Grand Meeting Hall?"

He walks up to within an arm span of her, and Clytemnestra braces for his characteristic effect described by Kirsch, but she doesn't feel it. Though, Father Neomund on the other hand isn't looking at her at all. He's scanning the shelves, looking for something which he cannot seem to find—the black eyes jump from one topic section to another, almost feverishly.

At some point, the snow elf becomes aware of how close he's gotten to Clytemnestra and at the display he is putting on. He finally zeros in on the magician, and a wave of strange unpleasantness rolls over her. The gray elf is no longer so sure of her footing and her mind feels unfocused.

Mechanically, the effects your character is experiencing are the following: you're standing in difficult terrain and you cannot cast defensively.

[Metastachydium]

Kirsch looks back nervously when he hears a door open behind him, but he is quick to relax upon seeing who the new arrival is. Still invisible, he drifts closer to Megamax, addressing her in a what could be described as a louder whisper. Meagan. the disembodied voice voice says, its tone slightly warmer than before. Your little diversion was much appreciated and it proved immensely useful. Ms. Dekatos and I managed to gain some valuable insight into certain matters, so to say, and now we have a number of promising leads to work with. We should, perhaps, convene to discuss these findings at the first opportune moment at our disposal. the lizard pauses shortly to look around before continuing. Before that, or indeed before rejoining the noble crowd, however, I have to deposit an object in my room that I would rather not be seen hauling around. Supposing you have the time and patience to wait, I shall return in a few moments.
With that, he slips back to the door of his room, turns the key and enters, heading straight for the wardrobe and placing the Octarium inside. Kirsch? a voice inquires from above. Closing the wardrobe, the lizard straightens his back, looking up to see a small avian head peering down at him. The magician dismisses his invisibility and flashes a smile at the bird. What took so long? This empty freaking room is boring me to death! Kirsch slowly shakes his head. I shall have to disappoint, Pterygs. I must have to attend the main event of the day now, and I must beseech you to keep watching over the suite with increased vigilance. The magician then turns to leave with Pterygs staring at his back, dumbfounded. Hey! Wait! That's not fair! The lizard looks back, smiling. I shall make up for it, as time allows. he says. Please do warn me if anyone intrudes into the room, and, of course, stay safe, Pterygs! As he steps out of the room, closing the door behind him he hears a final Life is pain! from inside. Shaking his head again, he locks the door.

[Geeksthenewsexy]

Inclining his head at the Baron's words, Victor bids both men farewell. After regaining his clothing and accessories and returning to his room, he pauses to listen at the door. Hearing several people out and about there, he instead turns his focus to the wardrobe in the room that caught his eye before leaving for the spa. Paying special attention to the odd hinges and creases, he takes his time to go over the piece of furniture with great care. Carefully examining how it sits against the wall, he attempts to discern it's secrets.



Taking all the time needed to take 20 on:
Listen check at the door - 17
Knowledge (Architecture and Engineering) check on the space the wardrobe occupies - 24
Search check on the wardrobe itself - 24

[Ripptor]

http://i.vgy.me/waS64S.png (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449194)

Meagan returns to her room, recollecting her things as she fills in Baubie on the events of the spa. Recharged and rearmed, she steps back out into the hallway still arguing back and forth over the upcoming evening in her head when she hears Kirsch in her ear. For the briefest moment, she believes it to be a mental communication until she calms down from the suddenness of the speech. She listens while pretending to brush her corset out and adjust her buckler, watching as the door down the hall opens and closes 'itself', before Kirsch comes back on out.

Walking down the hall with Kirsch, Megamax whispers, "Perfect, we can spread out and cover all of our bases. Lady has gathered herself a either tremendous ally or terrible threat in Duke Orbal, he's a blooded killer from my corner of the world. We'll need to watch him tonight for his intentions."

Towards the festivities!

She's fully clothed again, with Baubie in his 4D Pocket.

[Metastachydium]

I fail to see what use we have for a blooded killer. the lizard retorts. Violently removing, say, Neomund from the picture could, perhaps, help further their cause, but it could as well hinder it on the long run. At any rate, Kirsch always preferred the more subtle ways of handling such issues. In actual fact, an individual of such dubious standing is more of a reason for concern. he makes a vague gesture with his right hand before adding Accordingly, of course, we are in agreement that we should proceed as you suggested.

[Erelamar]

Kirsch and Megamax (walking down the Guest Suite Hallway)

The lizardfolk and tielfling take a short, uneventful trip down the hallway which wraps around the western garden of Allsatalos. The corridor is empty now, and they seem to be the very last of the guests to be making their way to the night's festivities. The sounds of music echo to them from their destination.

At the second story landing of the mighty staircases beneath the vaulted crystal ceiling, Kirsch notes that the majority of the guests have moved into Grand Meeting Hall through the large oaken doors. Drums and flashing lights are playing from the now-darkened room. Only a handful of unknown nobles still linger outside—a few standing in the doorway attempting to spot the most favorable of the cushioned benches still unoccupied.

A handful of liveried footmen stand along the walls, watching.

The Grand Meeting Hall is Room #69 (https://forums.giantitp.com/showsinglepost.php?p=25055983&postcount=2). Should Kirsch insist, he and Megamax can make it back to the guest library (#51) without anyone hindering them but not unnoticed.

Should they, then the pair discover Clytemnestra standing within with Father Neomund.
Victor (in his Guest Suite)

Ready to leave, Victor cloaks himself in his new disguise and exits into the empty hallway. The sun is sinking into the horizon through the western-facing windows. Night soon falls.

Knowing that at the one end of the West Wing corridor might likely bring him face-to-face with the target of his subterfuge, Victor takes the other route back toward the Guest Spa and the servants' door which he had only a few hours ago used to sneak to his room. It is not locked.

Victor first comes to a spiral staircase tucked in the wall leading downstairs with voices echoing up from inside. Only a little ways further down the narrow corridor, he spots another recessed stairwell, but this one goes up and down and is silent.

Between the two, an open door leaks idle chatter. It is a large room with a long, plain dining table. A few servers sit around eating what Victor realizes are the leftover hors d'oeuvres from the reception in the Western Salon. Also, a few more hang around the windowsills with pipes, blowing smoke outside to be carried away by the cold mountain air.

At the moment, Victor is outside Room #59 (https://forums.giantitp.com/showsinglepost.php?p=25055983&postcount=2) and currently unnoticed.

He remembers the way back down to the Lesser Kitchens is in the southwestern-most spiral staircase (the one down its own little corridor) where he had his conversation with Spycrist.

[Metastachydium]

Kirsch looks around as if mulling something when they reach the open door of the Hall, before gently touching Megamax's elbow with his right hand, gesturing towards the entrance with his clawed left. Why, we are not a moment too early as it would seem. Ms. Dekatos should already be inside; we should perhaps join her lest we miss the main attraction of the evening.

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

Clytemnestra lets Neomund's dislike wash over her and through her, leaving nothing in its wake. She steps away from the bookshelf, smiling blandly.

"I'm not lost, but am a little unsteady on my feet. Your assistance in reaching the great hall would be much appreciated."

She reaches out to take Neomund's arm, and finds the going all the more difficult. Ah well. She does her best and is happy to allow Neomund to walk her out of the games/library room.

"I am Clytemnestra Decatos, of White Harbour. My husband is Vimilion Leafbearer. Perhaps you've heard of him?"

She watches Neomund's face for any flicker of recognition.

"Truly, it's an honour to join in this celebration. Alsatalos has such a rich tradition among my people. I'm sure you can feel the majesty and history all around you, working here."

Clytemnestra stumps forward, leaning on both Neomund and her cane, finding walking more difficult than she has for years.

Sorry for the delay- it was a crazy weekend.

Difficult terrain drops her movement down to 5' per round, so it'll take Clytemnestra a long time to get to the hall with Neomund's help. But she's perversely enjoying this - by making her life difficult, he's only making his own life difficult.

Sense motive on Neomund, and especially how he reacts to her words, and her touch. [roll0]

[Ripptor]

http://i.vgy.me/waS64S.png (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449194)

Megamax bends towards the lights of the show with moving eyes, looking around the lights with excitement.

"We simply must! Let's find our girl and enjoy the show!" Casting her demon-eyes about in the darkness further, she scans the crowd for open spaces and recognizable faces. "Barring that, we must capture the best of the seats which remain..."

Looking for the rest of the group, or a good spot near someone we know / want to be seated near...

IDK how much to roll this one, feel free to roll me extra behind-the-screen!

[roll0] w/ Darkvision

[Erelamar]

Clytemnestra (with Father Neomund, Guest Library)

Father Neomund is a little taken aback as Clytemnestra takes his arm, almost as if he's unaccustomed to being touched. "I see..." is his simple response to her name and that of her husband. "Well then, this way."

The steward seems curious as to the magician's slowness of pace. But he makes no comment.

Walking together at first, Clytemnestra, swallowing her discomfort, manages to really see the snow elf for the first time. Perhaps to her surprise, he's not as old as she would think. He certainly moves and acts as one of maturity, but to her elven eyes, she notes he is not quite yet middle-aged. Neomund would have likely been not much older than Clytemnestra now when he first took his post at Allsatalos, given Hargen's timeframe. For a race so free-willed as elves, more than eighty years restricting oneself to a single locale speaks to... something.

Father Neomund, taking note of the growing noise coming from the Grand Meeting Hall, begins to crinkle his lips a bit in frustration at their speed. He finally averts his gaze from her completely. With an exhale—which Clytemnestra can feel holding his arm as a release of tension—the magician's discomfort, the unease in her mind, and shaky footing are relieved. They proceed together much more briskly. The Tolerance priest proving to be much stronger support than old Spycrist was earlier in the day.

Kirsch, Megamax, and Clytemnestra (outside the Grand Meeting Hall)

Both magicians' sight is first taken by the aerial dancing figures about the stage swinging from lengths of colorful silk. Popping figments of flashing color coincide with their graceful movements as strong, bare-chested men beat on three mighty drums in excited—almost martial—rhythm.

Scanning the rows of cushioned benches, only the front ten are in use. Most people squeezing in towards the fore. Megamax spots Dominique in a middling row seated by some other human nobles. Kirsch likewise sees, across the aisle, an elven contingent with Lady Nadjiel of Spyre. While Lady Lilet's gaggle from their earlier meeting are all crowded in the second and third rows, somehow she has bullied herself to the front. It is the same with Duke Orbal; bullied indeed, Kirsch knows, seeing how late they both arrived. But frontstage center, Megamax spots the balding, cherubic roundness of Baron Vorgus Vollenveen. Seated beside him, swathed in yards of glittering silks and a hat so large and gaudy it is practically a chandelier, is a woman who simply dwarfs his rotundity. Countess Yzonde Vollenveen, one would presume. Near the rear of the crowd, sitting alone, Kirsch can make out the old hunchbacked figure and the walking stick of Hargen Orq. He bobs his head to the music's beat. Behind him stretch out twenty more dark and empty rows.

Both magicians finally conclude Clytemnestra is not present. Before they begin to discuss it though, there is the clicking of a cane. Father Neomund, bearing Clytemnestra on his arm, brings her to the second-floor-landing. He stops well short of Kirsch and Megamax as a servant emerges from the eastern hallway leading north into the citadel. The servant nods to him and he nods back, grimly.

He turns to Clytemnestra, "It seems, she is ready. I leave you in the company of your... friends." He releases her and stalks off with but a moment's irritation as he glances at the unmet tiefling. The chief steward joins the servant who emerged from the corridor and disappears with him out of sight.

The nearest footmen begin to urge the magicians forward into the Grand Meeting Hall. A pair unlock the open doors, beginning to seal the room in darkness once the last three guests enter.

[Metastachydium]

When Clytemnestra appears accompanied by the Father himself, Kirsch has to consciously suppress the urge to let his scales shift to a more hostile hue. His only comfort is that the steward didn't catch them in the act, so to say.
Once Neomund is out of sight, the lizard draws closer to Clytemnestra. Is everything in order? he asks in a hushed tone with genuine concern in his voice; with some luck, it is more difficult to tell that he is not concerned, per se, for Clytemnestra.

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

Clytemnestra sighs as the going gets easier...for both of them. She persists in her efforts to engage the figuratively frosty elf in conversation.

"My parents dedicated their lives to the preservation and documentation of Crystal City. Such stewardship has its rewards, but they are quiet, and require great patience. Is it hard...spending so much of your life working to preserve and support this place? And then to see it under the rule of a frivolous human...and knowing that the heir to this estate doesn't even see fit to live here?"

Her tone is friendly, but there's no mistaking the serious intent in the question. It's clear that she's asking because she really wants to know.

[Erelamar]

Without hesitation, Neomund says, "Then they perform an estimable service." As to the Father's own situation, "My responsibility, my duty is in itself its own reward. If one understands the importance of what one does—as I am sure your parents do—then there is no hardship." His words are offered solemnly and with a Certainty more bracing than even his anti-mage techniques.

At Clytemnestra's final question, there begins almost a smirk at the corner of the snow elf's mouth. "The late elf lord was wise." Neomund catches himself and resumes his familiar neutral expression. "He appreciated the historical significance of this castle. I would dare say more than any other. Certain safeguards were put in place to see it was not altered or abused. At least not for very long..."

The weight of implication hangs in the air as Clytemnestra and the steward approach her fellow magicians.

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

Clytemnestra nods placidly.

"That is most wise. And yet here we are, about to partake of a party. Well, as you say, perhaps these are the ephemera that will fade in the long, long view of history.

"Master Neomund, you have been gracious beyond all duty in seeing me safely delivered. While I'm not much of a dancer and not much of a drinker these days, I do hope to share both with you in the course of the festivities to come. Or do you hold yourself apart from such things?"

[Erelamar]

Father Neomund nods in acceptance of Clytemnestra's thanks. "As they say, 'Civility is the armor of a courtier.' "

As to her further inquiry, "I am afraid that will be impossible. It is prohibited for staff to fraternize with guests at Allsatalos." If asked who introduced such an edict, the steward responds, "I did. Of course."

Neomund is much slower than Clytemnestra to spot the footman waiting in the northeast hall off from the second story landing. It's possible his strange eyes like deep blacks wells—a feature or condition unknown to the magician—are in poor shape. It's may even be that his vision is worse than a completely average elf. But when the Father does take notice, he signals to him and turns to Clytemnestra to offer his farewell.

[Geeksthenewsexy]

With a face not his own, Victor finds servants and no sight of any nobels, and decides to begin his smear campaign. Taking a moment to get into character, Victor's posture slouches and he allows his eyelids to droop and his face go slack, and with a stumbling gate he pushes open the door and staggers in. In a tone of voice recognizable in most taverns, he slurrs a too-loud declaration as he enters. "You pea...people are dugushting! Who eats inna water closhet? No shervents of mine woud be so shtupid. Bah!" Staggering to the table, he shoves the nearest plate roughly and mutters incomprehensible nonsense to himself huffily. Raising an unstead hand like he's going to strike the nearest one, he makes a sound of disgust and just waves the arm as if washing his hands of the lot of them before he stumbles to the nearest wall and after a moment of fumbling at his trousers, leans heavily against it as he relieves himself upon it with a grunt and a sign.

After what seems like far more effort than should be needed, he makes himself decent before turning back to the table. Staggering, he catches the back of a chair to steady himself. Nodding as if satisfied, he dunks his hands in a pitcher of water as if it were a washbasin in a water closet, then flops his wet hands on a small stack of napkins like two meaty fish. "Sho shtupid," he mutters to himself as he staggers back to the door, slamming it on his way out.

Outside the door, Victor quickly changes his appearance once again, becoming a plain and forgettable servant in uniform as he quickly makes his way to the stairway.


Bluff [roll0]
Intimidate [roll1]
Profession: Actor [roll2]

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

With Neomund:

Clytemnestra chuckles, acknowledging the subtle wit underlying Neomund's final clarification. Then, figuratively and literally, Clytemnestra releases Neomund back to his other duties for the evening.

With Kirsch:

Turning to speak with Kirsch, she smiles and nods.

"I think I saw a table of baked vegetable pies that I simply must try. Join me?"

Stumping over to the refreshments, Clytemnestra leans into Megamax, taking her arm as she had just done with Neomund, and speaks softly to the pair.

"Keep your friends close, as it were. Neomund came to me in the guest library, probably looking for the book that's now in your room, Kirsch. I buttonholed him to bring me here. He's interesting, complicated. A creature of duty, playing a long game, I'd say. Tactically, it may be important to note that his robes are armour in disguise, and that his vision is impaired."

She begins gathering food at the table, initially as a ruse but then, realizing that she's genuinely hungry. She murmurs to Megamax.

"And have your perambulations borne interesting fruit?"

[Ripptor]

http://i.vgy.me/waS64S.png (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449194)

Megamax walks Clytemnestra along towards the food tables, glancing about for the sweets and collecting a small colorful plate while she speaks under hew own breath, "The Tolerance is just one more militant presence, no surprise he's dressed for war. I've learned that Duke Orbal is a retired Valley of Fire barrister, so he's not one to be trifled with either. Hopefully his machinations are as much Lady's as his own..."

Glancing around back at the show about to begin, Meagan moves towards the middle benches. "Ah, and I've had the pleasure to connect with Dominique as well. Let us be seated, before we miss Lady's show!"

May as well sit behind Dominique and before Harqen, middle benches?

[Metastachydium]

Why, that is positively intriguing. Kirsch mutters once Clytemnestra and Megamax have given their accounts of their recent experiences. I expect that we shall have ample opportunity to discuss these matters and more – but that can and indeed should wait until a more opportune time with fewer ears around. he continues, turning to follow Megamax, content to let her find "the best of the seats which remain."


A few knowledge checks to see if Kirsch can figure out what's wrong with Neomund's eyes:
Knowledge (nature): [roll0]
Knowledge (arcana): [roll1]
Knowledge (religion): [roll2]

[Erelamar]

Victor (West Wing, Servants' Corridor)

The disguised magician descends the stairs down into the silent dark. Victor comes to the first floor and it opens into a sprawling space of ovens and fireplaces and workbenches. Metal storage cupboards with twisting, sinuous latticework are common around the walls. Some are wet with condensation. This must be the main kitchen. Rows of pots and kitchen utensils are laid out waiting. Apparently, the lesser kitchen Victor passed through earlier was enough to handle tonight's feasting but it looks like tomorrow this much grander facility will be in full use.

Stacked along the wall beside the entrance to the spiral staircase are cases upon cases of Fraal March wine and Sandrinel champagne in so many varieties: deepest reds and pale ambers and some so alcoholic they appear almost perfectly clear within the bottle. There's enough to drown an army.

Of the room, there is only one exit on the ground floor, and if Victor's spatial directions are correct he assumes it leads out to the pergola that runs along the south wall of the western garden. It is locked, though.

Also, the staircase Victor is in now continues down deeper beneath the ground level of the castle.

The map in the second OOC Post has been updated.
Kirsch, Megamax, and Clytemnestra (Grand Meeting Hall within the Citadel, Second Floor)

The doors seal shut behind the trio of magicians. The way is now only illuminated by the flashes that come from the stage. In the strobing light, elf, tiefling, and lizardfolk slide into the bench behind Dominique and assorted other human guests.

The great drums beat a crescendo and the drifting aerial dancers swing from sight into the wings. Darkness descends, the first symphonic act begins. For a ninety-minute performance, it manages to be loaded with more bells and whistles than thought possible, almost to the point of becoming gaudy: the darkness of the grand meeting hall changes again and again, from misty forests so real the magicians can smell the pine, to mountaintop amphitheaters where the wind can cause you to shiver. Sets are changed out for another almost as soon as they're artfully assembled by the performers, giving the play a feverish pace. The cast must be in the dozens.

The show is a familiar one, a cover of a famous elven play Sehan Ath u Gyrah or Roam of the Mindful Merganser. It's almost unrecognizable as so many of the melodies have been changed—truly, it is a tour of the entirety of contemporary genres. The contents of the play are a simple Bildungsroman for the merganser (played by no less than four different actors, if the magicians are keeping track). He travels through the lush and virginal Eldwizand meeting many teachers from the jovial to the dire...

Just as it all is about to become a little headachey, the setting turns to buzzing tropical jungle. A grand waterfall floods the stage and errant currents leak out across the guests among the rows. It is fresh and cool and liquid but it passes by leaving none wet. The most famous song from the play begins, and Lady Emalia appears through the waterfall hovering far above the "trembling" merganser. She is decked out in the colorful headdress and wings of Mother Rainbow-Feater, the Thunderbird whose sings a tempting and berating harmony. It is very difficult with an almost inhuman range of octaves. Despite her age, Emalia sells it well.

Normally, the merganser would reject Mother Rainbow-Feather, and the play would continue another half an act before he returns home pond, deciding that's the only place for him. Instead, as Emalia's powerful song comes to a close, the lights go down, and the performance ends on a note of question: what would the merganser choose?

The guests spring up to clap as the lights come back up and the cast is introduced to receive their ovations. Lady Emalia is last of course and receives the praise with practiced grace. The guests are informed refreshment will be served in the Eastern Garden, along with a meet-and-greet with the actors, many of which are still crowding around the stage talking with those in the front rows. Emalia, however, has already slipped away.

The doors open once more to the grand staircase landing. Footmen linger to escort the nobles to the night's next activity.

Both of you know that the performers are from Cirque du Sphinx, a renowned performance troupe based out of Sandrine. That they would leave their home theater which is packed nightly, on a weekend, to perform a private show is hard to believe. The expense must be legendary in itself.

[Geeksthenewsexy]

Re-assuming his previous character disguise, Victor takes a deep breath, adjusts his posture and bursts into the kitchen, stumbling and lurching until he gets to the cases of booze, ignoring the staff entirely. Muttering seemingly to himself in a voice that he hopes will carry enough so that he is 'overheard', he mutters, "Shtupid bish... should hurry up and lemmy bed her. Getting tired of thish courting nonsensh." Seeming to reaching for one of the bottles in a stacked case, he 'stubles', grabbing the edge of a case to steady himself, and 'accidently' pulling it off the stack to crash against the floor. Staring vacantly at the result on the floor for a moment he shrugs and picks a different bottle. Pretending to work at the cork, he staggers back to the door he came in from and slams it behind him.

Changing quickly back to the guise of a servant, he tucks the bottle away and makes his way back up the stairs in haste, intending to bypass the floor he was on and explore the upper reaches of the silent stairwell.


Bluff: [roll0]
Disguise [roll1]
Perform (Acting) [roll2]

[Metastachydium]

The play did, in fact, make Kirsch's head hurt. It was way too fast and chaotic for his taste. He doesn't have anything against the Merganser in and on itself, of course and the expertise of the Cirque (and he can't help but wonder how much this spectacle, presumably a mere prelude for what comes could cost – the Lady must be rolling in riches) did show, but a more conservative rendition would have been more to his palate. This is going to be one hectic evening, but he'll weather it somehow. The prize is well worth the cost. He must kep this much in mind.
As the servants appear to shepherd the guests on, the lizard instinctively rises from his seat, giving his fellow magicians a quick glance to see if they are ready to follow.

[Erelamar]

Victor (Main Kitchens, South Wing)

Of the few servants present, they universally wince at the smashing of so many valuable bottles of wine. Mouths agape, they look on as "Duke Orbal" returns to the stairwell he emerged from and returns upstairs. When he makes it back to the second story landing, he can see footmen muttering to each other in the doorway of the Staff Dining Room.

One calls out to Victor, re-disguised as a servant, "Hey! Have you seen, Duke Orbal?" Whatever the magician's answer they don't stop him from proceeding onward. In fact, they don't even look back to see where he even wanders off to.

Continuing to climb the stairs, this trip takes much longer than when he descended to the Main Kitchens. Victor finally reaches the apex of the steps which terminate in a tower guard post. Narrow windows give a sweeping view of the mountain ranges and valleys along with the Skybridge far below. A single door leads to the battlements which travel the length of the west wing to another tower in the northwestern corner of the castle. The guardroom's roof is strange, in that it appears like a sort of mechanical iris; there are a series of levers in one corner of the room next to what seems to be a kind of strange catapult-like device. Besides the siege engine is an enormous tarp covering large cylindrical and conical shapes.

There are eight armored elven guards present. No matter what form Victor takes upon entering the room, they all glare with open hostility. Those sitting stand to join the others. The one whose armor is adorned with the most chevrons declares, "You are not supposed to be here."

I've added another map for Allsatalos in the second post of the OOC thread. Though it doesn't really tell anyone much at the moment.

[Geeksthenewsexy]

A vague wave of his hand and a "I think he went that way..." was thankfully enough to have the guards' attention elsewhere, as he makes his escape. Coming short at the guard's words, the 'servant' bows deeply, "Pardon the intrusion! Have...have you... seen Duke Orbal? Everyone is searching for him and..." his speech slows at their hostility and a mask of confusion crawls across his expression as he looks around tentatively at the surroundings as if noticing them for the first time while swallowing hard before continuing, " when I was told to help the only... um... way no one had started checking was...up?" Gulping visibly as his statement turned into a confused and fearful-sounding question. Stammering a squeaky apology-sounding noises, seeming having given up on his search and starts slowly backing out of the room, half bowing all the way.


Bluff: [roll0]
Perform (Acting): [roll1]

[Erelamar]

Victor (Guard Room at top of Southwest Tower)

At the mention of Duke Orbal, two of the guards share knowing—and somewhat pained—glances. The lead elf, though, steps closer to Victor and really scrutinizes him. It's almost as if he detects something. But before long his face returns to a neutral expression. "He has not been here. You may go." He turns back to the guard station, and the rest of them resume their duties.

At the end of the long, winding stairwell journey to the second floor, Victor is greeted by the familiar faces of the footmen still loitering around the entrance to the Staff Dining Hall. One calls over their shoulder, "Hey! Have you seen Duke Orbal?"

Kirsch, Megamax, and Clytemnestra (Grand Meeting Hall within the Citadel, Second Floor)

As the three magicians are making their way through the wide doors to the landing of the Grand Staircases, a familiar voice calls out, "Lord Kirsch?" Turning, the lizardman recognizes Lady Nadjiel of Spyre. She has broken away from the group of elves and makes to walk with him to the Western Garden.

"How did you enjoy the spectacle?" She gives a subtle, knowing look. "A very human interpretation, I would say. It's always... interesting when they get their hands on a classic."

You both manage to spot Duke Orbal lingering near the stage with several other guests engaged in conversation with some of the performers. He hops up to sit on the edge of the stage, evidently distracting the rest with a joke while doing so, because they all laugh. They are all still talking when Orbal casually stands to pat an actor on the back and shake another's hand. He points to one of the other guests, and the performers turn to speak with them, intent looks on their faces. And the Duke... just... slips away behind a curtain and into the backstage area, where Emalia went. Nobody around him seems to have noticed at all.

[Metastachydium]

Indeed, indeed Lady Nadjiel. Kirsch flashes a pleasant smile at the elven lady. It was a… Highly inventive adaptation of the original, that much is for certain. Very full, very dense. the lizard folds his arms behind his back as he begins to walk along. That said, given the almost hysterically accelerated pace, I would occasionally have some difficulty following the plot as it unfolded. One cannot help but wonder if that were a direct consequence of the play being rendered by members of a species that lives short and fast lives.

When I assigned Kirsch's age, I did so based on the assumption that due to their slower, reptilian metabolism lizardfolk live longer than humans. That might not be correct lorewise, but they definitely live slower lives.

[Geeksthenewsexy]

Schooling his expression as the man approaches, Victor winces and his expression darkens at the man's question. "Not since I passed him in the hall early this morning as he was complimenting one of the female staff very... thoroughly, sir." Putting a sarcastic emphasis on the words 'compliment' and 'thoroughly in a disgusted tone, he says this through clenched jaws, as if in anger. "Perhaps he's found his way to the female servant's apartments. Again." Once more putting an undertone of venom on the key word, he shakes his head and takes a more weary tone with the expulsion of a his next breath, "But I have not seen him recently, no. I do hope you find him, sir." Inclining his head, Victor begins to move away. Giving the man a small wave, he calls over his shoulder, "If I see him while I'm working, I'll report his location."

Intending to resume his normal public appearance once out of sight and the coast is clear before going back to his rooms now that people he hadn't interacted with directly are actively searching for Duke Orbal, he thinks the pot is adequately stirred for the moment. He assumes it will be interesting hearing what rumors will be had tomorrow with the court gossips.


Bluff: [roll0]
Perform (Actor): [roll1]

[Erelamar]

Victor (back in his Guest Suite, West Wing, Second Floor)

Without passing another soul, Victor—once again in his familiar guise—returns to his guest suite on the deserted second floor of the castle's west wing. So good is Allsatalos' soundproofing, he does not hear the cacophonic play beating at the thick doors to the Grand Meeting Hall.

Night falls outside and a more perfect starscape could not be witnessed. That is, should the magician care to glance out a window. A little over an hour from his return, he hears a great pop! and sees a flash of colorful light which illuminates the room in blue. Then another, this time shining red. More follow, a firework display begins above the eastern side of the castle.

Kirsch, Megamax, and Clytemnestra (now in the Eastern Garden)

The elven noblewoman, Lady Nadjiel, escorts the three magicians making small talk—which is mostly veiled insults about the production. They descend the Grand Staircase and exit through the portico into the Eastern Garden. For those who had not seen it before, it's like an impressionist's dream: black trees gracefully curved, hanging wisteria, a small black pond dotted with lotuses, a stream cascading down smooth stones with obligatory tiny, cute bridge, and flawless dark green grass. At every side, the walls of Allsatalos rise up around it. Currently, it is peppered with small, round iron-wrought tables and chairs, where some of the guests are already relaxing. They munch on delicate finger sandwiches and caviar-loaded crostinis and sip the wine being brought around by the servers. Idle chatter drifts through the scene like the ghostly moths which have taken to the cool night air.

Lady Lilet von Bleak and a gaggle of her noble friends emerge behind the magicians' party but are making a beeline for the tables of assorted food and drinks. Likely, to the magicians' relief. A snippet of her conversation could be heard as she passes, "Yes, he—wasn't he a pretty chap? The dancer was telling me Emalia changed the whole script, the whole shebang, just a few hours before the curtain. Had them working like dogs rehearsing in the smaller ballroom right up til showtime. Couldn't imagine what's gotten into her..."

With a crook eyebrow, Lady Nadjiel of Spyre looks back to Kirsch. "Hmm. Indeed."

A trumpet blows and Lady Emalia appears in the portico with a bouquet of white roses. There is another round of clapping from the assembled aristocrats with a few drunken cheers as well. She gives a genteel if slightly affected wave of acknowledgment. Only when the applause dies down does Duke Orbal walk into view by Emalia's side.

Lady Emalia hands off the flowers to a footman and takes a glass of wine before descending the steps. After only a brief second to survey the gathering, she leads Duke Orbal directly to Kirsch, Megamax, and Clytemnestra. A pleasant smile is set on her face. She registers not a shred of surprise.

"What a shock!" says Lady Emalia in her all-too-familiar, sardonic soprano.

Lady Nadjiel curtsies with a respectful, "My lady."

"Yeah. Hey," Emalia replies before returning her focus to the magicians, "Meagan, Lord Kirsch... Clytemnestra, what brings you to my neck of the woods? Besides the shenanigans of one cheeky old fellow."

Duke Orbal watches on with great interest.

[Ripptor]

http://i.vgy.me/waS64S.png (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449194)

Meagan contains her immediate impulse to run over and hug Emalia, instead beaming with excitement as she tilts her whole body to the side. "Since when are shenanigans not sufficient alone?" Waggling a finger at Emalia in jest, "And don't think I missed that beautiful performance. Tempting the merganser right out of it's canon? At your age?"

Meagan leans forward, plucking what should have been a white rose out of her bouquet, but is instead a colorful 'Thunderbird' feather.
"Some things must never change!"


Fun and games!

Sleight of Hand performance for the "pull out of a hat" trick: [roll0]

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

Clytemnestra's grip on her staff tightens as Emalia comes into view, and the grey elf goes so still that she might as well be the statues stuck in time that the younger races always perceive. Only when Emalia approaches and speaks to her by name does her face betray anything. A flicker of disappointment. A twinge of curiosity? It's gone in an instant, replaced by the faint smile of the courtier.

Clytemnestra nods uncertainly as Megamax references waterfowl and wildly coloured plumage, but glides on regardless.

"Duke, lovely to see you again. And my lady, surely your grace and charm are sufficient to draw even three such unlikely old friends out of hiding? My only regret is that I had not found the time to make the journey sooner. Perhaps, tomorrow, you might have time to catch up with our motley band?"

Sense Motive to see if there is anything strange about Emalia's demeanor - a personality shift, a sign of magical influence, etc. [roll0]

[Erelamar]

Kirsch, Megamax, and Clytemnestra (with Emalia in the Eastern Garden)

At their hostess' disinterest, Lady Nadjiel of Spyre mumbles something about food and departs in pursuit of a server walking away with a tray. Her best attempt at salvaging some dignity.

"Oh, sweet girl," Lady Emalia says with a warm smile. The older woman reaches out to adjust an errant lock of Megamax's pink and purple hair. There's a pop, and when she retracts her hand there's the tip of a delicate little piece of bone. "Oops! Got your horn!" She bubbles over with delighted laughter, and before Megamax can reach up to touch her head, Lady Emalia shakes her wrist, and the small piece of white blurs and unfolds into one of the ghostly pale moths flittering around the garden in the moonlight. She lets it drift away into the cool air.

Clytemnestra begins her introductions and while Emalia stays neutral, Duke Orbal displays a certain disbelief, "My dear, your formality is bracing." Turning to the hostess, he continues, "You weren't kid—"

"Orbal." The Lady's one word is enough to make the Duke clamp his mouth shut. She offers Clytemnestra a warm if distant smile. "You haven't aged a day, my friend. Ah, so fortunate. And you've faired better than most since our parting if that be your only regret." The aging bard stares off across the garden. Taking it in themselves, the magicians can't help but think it has a tragic sort of beauty.

Sipping her wine, Emalia continues, "Tomorrow in the afternoon, before the banquet, we'll be taking the airship out for a tour of the local geography—"

"Really?" interjects the Duke.

"Yes, really. I've been told Mount Glass and Sharpadons' Spire are quite splendid this time of year. And, of course, Kaltyri Falls..." Lady Emalia trails off as there's an explosion from above and blue light fills the courtyard garden. "Ahh, at last." She smiles again and looks up, as do all the rest of the guests. The fireworks have begun—a very bright, very loud distraction.

Father Neomund has appeared in the portico between the First Hall and the Eastern Garden. There are six castle guards with him. Under the flashing lights and deafening booms! he approaches the Lady, the Duke, and the trio of magicians, alone, leaving the armored elves behind.

While you've been talking, castle guards have taken up positions in and around the Eastern Garden. Some appeared through the foliage from deeper within the garden, taking up stations nearby on pathways and the little bridge of the babbling brook. The ones in the portico even stopped a large band of the actors when they appeared behind them and directed the performers to wait somewhere in the First Hall.

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

Clytemnestra arches an eyebrow at Emalia. If she wants to paint herself as somehow the victim in all this, she's even more of a narcissist than ever.

Under the flashing and booming, Clytemnestra leans forward for a not-quite private exchange with Emalia.

"If that's an invitation, My Lady, I would be delighted to join you tomorrow afternoon. And perhaps we can begin on a more rigorous enumeration of our regrets."

She steps back and becomes serenely smiling again as Neomund approaches.

[Geeksthenewsexy]

Still retaining posession of the bottle of wine that 'the Duke' stole from the kitchens, Victor was staring at it thoughtfully, contemplating his most recent escapade when the light illuminated the room. Taking the bottle to the window, he peels the Hat of Disguise from his head and flings it onto the bed, running his fingers through his thinning hair, damp with the sweat of the night's activities. Uncorking the bottle with his teeth, he opens the window, leaning against the frame and tipping the bottle back. A faint smile on his face, he lets out a wistful sigh as he gazes up at the dazzling display.

As the show continues and the bottle becomes ever emptier, he leans more heavily on the window sill, as if the weight of the world were pressing down upon him. It was always so thrilling, in the moment, pretending to be someone else at the drop of a magical hat. But more and more often, he wondered how long he could do just that before he began to truly forget who he really was. Did he even truly know himself anymore? He did not find the answer at the bottom of the bottle of stolen wine, but it was not for lack of trying. Clothes only half removed pin one arm behind him as he the late evening finds him snoring loudly into the mattress of his bed, face down with limbs akimbo. He would not find answers to his questions this night, nor anything but fitful oblivion until the world dragged him back to consciousness sometime later.


No idea if a now-empty bottle of fancy wine requires a Fortitude Saving throw for morning-after hangovers, but here's one just in case. Fort Save: [roll0]

[Ripptor]

https://i.vgy.me/GnHgrL.png (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449194)

Megamax giggles in delight at her old friend's bit of illusory fun, an absolutely perfect moment in her mind. At Emalia's mention of an airship ride, the girl gasps in audiovisual excitement, then remembers Spycrist's off-hand remark and wonders if perhaps there is more there then he may think... Or if this will simply be awesome!

She has to stop herself from looking directly at any of the slowly surrounding armored guards as their conversation continues, until she follows Lady's eyes upwards at the explosive display. With the sky erupting above her, Meagan spins rapidly to take it all in, jumping in delight as she considers adding her own fire to the show...

Once the potential arrest is past them, of course.

Fireworks!!

Casting Protection from Law as the guards encircle them (+2 AC/Saves, no mental control, 10min)
Conceal Spellcasting as she spins around in Fireworks excitement: [roll0]

33/35 SP

[Metastachydium]

On their way to the Eastern Garden, Kirsch adds his own subtle jabs at the performance with vicious glee, enjoying the conversation tremendously. When Emalia finally appears, he taps his chest with his open right palm and greets her in a manner curt but polite. Lady Emalia. A pleasure to see you again. His mood quickly sours however as Emalia makes her srrange remark. His crest rises slowly and his sclaes shift colours somewhat. Old man? Shenanigans? Something doesn't add up here. And then it dawns upon him: the servant who told the guide that took him to his room that the old one made some arrangements for him. Unless Emalia is messing with them, the invitation wasn't real. But who's this old man pulling the strings? Meagan seems to know. He can always ask her later if Emalia won't talk.
The lizard composes himself, but stays quiet for now, watching the scene unfold, and much to his dismay, the plot begins to thicken again. As the fireworks begin he takes the distraction to observe the positions of the guards converging on them, trying to read the face and body of the approaching Neomund in the meantime. Clytemnestra mentioned that he was in the library. He might have realized something is amiss. This bodes ill.


Bracin' for impact!
Knowledge (geography) on the places Emalia mentioned: [roll0]
Sense Motive on Neomund [roll1] and the guards [roll2]

[Erelamar]

Megamax, Kirsch, and Clytemnestra (with Emalia in Eastern Garden)

As the crowd watches the spectacle in the nighttime sky, Megamax, Kirsch, and Clytemnestra watch Father Neomund loom closer. He strides right up to their party, close enough that the nearest wizard can feel the unpleasant aura of his Tolerance training. The elf's sunken black eyes keep trained the entire time on the magicians, but as he comes to a halt, he looks away from them to Duke Orbal.

"Your Grace, I would like it if you would come with me. To answer some questions."

Up until that moment, the Duke had been looking on the scene above Allsatalos, same as all the other guests, gently sipping his wine with a certain smug satisfaction. The casualness drops from his face, "What? What are you on about?"

The nobleman meets only the snow elf's glare, which if the trio of mages didn't know better carried the implication don't make me repeat myself.

Lady Emalia, taking notice, speaks up, "What's this? Neomund, what do you want with him?"

"I'm afraid there have been several incidents as of this afternoon and evening which have involved the Duke of Bruckwald. I would like him to come with me to answer some questions. There has been a destruction of property—namely several thousand gold pieces worth of wine—along with other cleaning-related matters. Also, some aspersions have been made regarding the Lady's char—"

"How much wine?" Emalia looks down to her glass, then out across the garden. "Neomund if you tell me we are going to run out of—"

"No, your Ladyship. But more will need to be brought up from the cellar tomorrow. I'm afraid some may not be properly decanted in time, though."

As this banality continues, the Duke, wide-eyed, finally seethes over, "This is preposterous! I was at the show the whole time."

"Yes. I saw him, Neomund," Lady Emalia adds.

"Were you on stage the whole time, my Lady? The theater was very dark, and the production so very long." To which, the Marchioness has to shrug admittance that she was not. Father Neomund continues, "There have been several witnesses: servants which have given testimonials under the light of a truth candle. The evidence, I'm afraid is quite—"

"Evidence! EvIdEnCe!" In that instance, the red-faced Duke steps up to the chief steward. Collectively, the guards take a step forward from where they ring the garden. This does not go unnoticed by Orbal. "Oh. Are you trying to intimidate me? It will take more than a few soft-handed guards and some blind bastard from frozen nowhere to do that." Duke Orbal keep up his rant as he turns to Emalia, "Can you believe the nerve... of this... elf...?"

The Lady's face has taken on a gloomy, seriousness. She glances at some of the other nearby guests who have started snatching peeks at what is transpiring among her little group. "I believe you should go with him Orbal. And sort this out."

"But, but..." The Duke's eyes search the dark grass of the lawn, disbelief sagging his features. Finally, though, they set stern. The easiness which had been his trademark falling away as he seems to come to a realization. To say the glare which Duke Orbal gives Kirsch, Megamax, and Clytemnestra is murderous would be putting it mildly.

Still, he appears resigned to depart with Father Neomund.

Unless there's anything specific anyone wants to interject, Orbal will be lead away and the evening will continue.
High up in a second story south wing window, of the Guest Library you believe, Megamax can just make out the aged, stooped silhouette of who she believes to be Spycrist. The way the shoulders are bouncing, he must be chuckling.

[Metastachydium]

Kirsch relaxes, releived that for once, the Father wasn't after them. He was almost certain this would be about the book.
As for Orbal, he was indeed in the Hall for all Kirsch knew, and while he wasn't watching the Duke for most of the time, Lady Lilet could probably confirm or refute Neomund's conjecture. The lizard had no intention whatsoever of offering the steward's victim aid of any sort, however. Let the fool unmake himself! There was a risk that he could hinder the magicians' efforts anyhow, and now he's giving Neomund a good reason to avert his gaze from them. That the Lady would let the elf have his way so easily is worrisome, of course, but they will have time to worry about that later. For now, Kirsch resolves not to break the silence, to see what happens next.

[Ripptor]

http://i.vgy.me/waS64S.png (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449194)

Megamax watches as the Duke is accused by the snow elf, pulled from the explosions in the sky. Orbal's outburst and anger are momentarily more interesting, down to the hateful look she receives when he's looking for help.

While Orbal is certainly playing his own game, Meagan is still of the opinion that the man is fun and may not necessarily be on a side opposite her own goals... It would be a waste to lose a potential ally of such anility, especially one in which she's invested her time. Megamax turns to Feather Neomund and adds her own input before he's taken away.

"Evening, Father. If the question is of this afternoon, I can attest the Duke and I were getting to know one other in the baths." Meagan throws the Duke a wink and wide smile before turning back to Neomund.

Considering more, she tilts her neck and adds, "And I did find Orby at the front of the performance, beginning and end. I don't recall seeing him leave at any point before his sneaking off backstage after our dear Lady." Winking at the snow elf this time, "My own eyes are a touch more keen in the dark."


IDK if it's common knowledge that tieflings have darkvision, but she's going to assume that at least Neomund understands!

Her word alone is unlikely to sway the Father, but hopefully Orbal (and Lady) remembers that she stuck her neck out :smallredface:

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

In a moment of unaccustomed spontaneity - perhaps being around Emalia again was having a deleterious effect - Clytemnestra lays a gentle hand on Duke Orbal's forearm.

"Perhaps this is all an unfortunate misunderstanding, as Miss Megamax's assertion would suggest. Sometimes, it takes a disinterested outside party to untangle the threads. With your permission, my lord, I will accompany you to observe. Since there is nothing to hide on anyone's part, there can be no need for secrecy."

Emalia allows her steward to make accusations of a guest in the middle of a party and supports him. Truly, Neomund is in control of this household.

She nods to Emalia.

"I look forward to our flight tomorrow."

She steps up next to Neomund.

"Lead on, Neomund. If I rely on you for steadiness, we shall be here all night, so perhaps it would be best if you go first."

[Metastachydium]

Kirsch suppresses a resigned sigh. I would recommend that you inquire with Lady Lilet von Bleak as well, if I may, Father. She would certainly be well acquainted with those occupants of the second row seats that were in the best position to monitor the Duke's movements. If the Lady herself cannot, they will most likely be able to verify the Duke's claims. he interjects with feigned didinterest. There is little point in potentially incurring the wrath of Emalia through being the only one who doesn't try to help. Keeping Neomund busy and Orbal out of the way would have been ideal, but the more leads the steward has to follow, the less time he'll have to keep an eye on them.

[Erelamar]

Kirsch, Megamax, and Clytemnestra (with Emalia, Eastern Garden)

At Megamax's accounting, suspicion still lingers on Duke Orbal's face. It returns stronger as Clytemnestra seemingly attempts to comfort him. Lady Emalia watches these interactions with a strange curiosity. Orbal is about to plead his case once again, but the tiefling magician finishes with what she witnessed after the show had ended. The Duke's mouth hangs open mid-thought.

"Hmm," Father Neomund intones. A flicker of smirk plays across his neutral expression. "Sneaking off backstage? A pattern of behavior is forming."

Duke Orbal looks between those nearby. He finally settles on Lady Emalia, who in an almost heartbreaking display of flippancy, merely shrugs.

Father Neomund raises a hand to stop the gray elf mage. "Quite impossible, Lady Clytemnestra. That is not how such inquiries are conducted at Allsatalos. But do not trouble yourselves. Should I believe your or any other party's testimonies have become relevant..." and here he looks to each of the magicians in turn, "I will know where to find you." The steward bows to Lady Emalia, "Your Ladyship." And he departs with the dejected Duke.

The pair walk briskly back across to the pergola into the First Hall. The guards there and elsewhere in the garden recede from immediate view. As they mount the steps, old Hargen Orq shuffling with his walking stick makes it to the Eastern Garden at last from the Grand Meeting Hall. Though he cannot be heard because of the distance and fireworks, he says something to Neomund and Orbal. Neither stop nor even acknowledge him save to look in his direction. Obviously perplexed, the old fabulist continues his plodding to the serving tables out upon the grass.

When Kirsch, Clytemnestra, and Megamax finally turn back to Lady Emalia, she is really inspecting the three of them. It is as if the aging bard is thinking of a great many things at once. She starts to speak but interrupts herself, "—oh, damn."

Out across the garden, the large frames of the Countess and Baron Vollenveen are standing around a large swan ice sculpture. They are talking to each other and not the other guests. Wide-eyed, Emalia chugs her wine and hurries off that way but not before snarking, "We'll talk in the afterparty. In the meantime, you three can get your story straight over whatever Spycrist did or didn't ask you to do..."

[Metastachydium]

Kirsch slowly folds his arms behind his back as he watches Emalia depart. I wonder if you would be so kind as to share the exact details of the same with my humble self as well. he begins in a hushed and somewhat cold tone at last. I have been trying to piece the sorry scraps of information available to me together for a while now, and yet, I did only became aware that the old man who designated where my suite was to be and who brazenly took the liberty to impersonate the kind Lady and invite us here in her stead was Spycrist – and I had to learn that much from Lady Emalia herself, no less. his scaly hide is slowly turning a greyish blue as he speaks. Now, at this point I would greatly appreciate it if you could, perchance, explain what the meaning of this is supposed to be.

Someone's not exactly happy!

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

Once it becomes clear that Neomund is NOT listening, Clytemnestra latches more firmly onto Orbal's arm and DOES NOT LET GO.

"I'm so pleased that you're clear about how things are done in Allsatalos, Neomund, but I'm also pleased to provide a broader perspective about how such interrogations might happen in the rest of the world. For instance, they don't happen DURING a reception, but discreetly and with the express permission of the lord whose guest you have just accused of a crime. So I think that my company is the least that you can put up with."

She continues out, carried by Duke Orbal if need be.

[Erelamar]

Kirsch, Megamax, and Clytemnestra (with Emalia/Orbal/Neomund, Eastern Garden)

Duke Orbal, still angry, does appear baffled at Clytemnestra's show of support. "What game is this?" he asks, rather rhetorically.

Father Neomund steps closer. The sickness he brings is in full effect. "Allsatalos is not the rest of the world. It could never be. Anything which jeopardizes its stability will be dealt with swiftly. Furthermore—"

"Gods, Neomund, just take her. She's not going to give up," Lady Emalia decrees, finally.

The snow elf steward stands straight, stiff-backed, and nods. "As you wish." He turns and motions to the pergola. "This way, Duke Orbal. Lady Clytemnestra, you are more than welcome to accompany me and my guards to an isolated part of the castle..." Neomund wears a faint, smug smile.

Kirsch and Megamax (with Emalia, Eastern Garden)

Watching the three of them go, the remaining magicians and their host look on. "Maybe, she didn't think that through," speculates Lady Emalia, somewhat wryly. The aging bard waves it off with a chuckle, "Eh. They'll both be fine— Oh, damn." What has caught the Lady's attention is that out across the garden the large frames of the Countess and Baron Vollenveen are standing around a large swan ice sculpture. They are talking to each other and not the other guests. Wide-eyed, Emalia chugs her wine and hurries off that way but not before snarking, "We'll talk in the afterparty. In the meantime, maybe you two can decide which choice bits of Spycrist's desires you are going to follow through on..."

Clytemnestra (with Neomund/Orbal, First Hall)

The guards at the pergola turn on their heel and proceed ahead of Father Neomund. As Clytemnestra and Duke Orbal are mounting the steps back into the First Hall, the old bent figure of Hargen Orq shuffles into view, leaning heavily on his walking stick. "Greetings, all! What a show! Father Neomund..."

Not missing a step, the steward gives the curtest acknowledgment, "Young Master Hargen."

"Duke Orbal..." Which receives cold silence. "And Lady Clytemnestra, good to see you again. I'm am looking forward to our little tour of... Allsatalos... tomorrow?" He keeps speaking but trails off as he sees Neomund and Orbal aren't stopping. However, both look toward the old fabulist, regarding him with narrow eyes at his mention of a "tour."

That didn't alter much for Megamax and Kirsch. Emalia's language is a little different in her parting words. She's a bit more specific, sorta.

Father Neomund is not going to give Clytemnestra time for more than a brief few words in passing with Hargen, as neither he, the guards, or Orbal plan to stop. It does give me enough time to do some map editing, though.

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

Clytemnestra labours up the stairs stoically, not at all masking the pain and effort that Neomund's fast pace causes. She nods a greeting to Hargen.

"I am excited to learn more, Master Hargen."

And then they're on and upward.

[Erelamar]

Clytemnestra (with Neomund/Orbal, walking the halls)

Six guards escort Father Neomund, Duke Orbal, and Clytemnestra from the First Hall into the Grand Foyer then on to the corridor to the Portrait Gallery. It appears the Duke and magician are being led around the Eastern Garden. Perhaps, the steward's barb about the locale's remoteness was perhaps in jest.

In the Portrait Gallery, Clytemnestra—not being hurried by Spycrist like when she last passed this way—has the time to take in the elven faces in the pictures. While yes, upon close inspection one can see they are all gray elves, the painters have taken great pains to artfully disguise those facts. And some of these portraits may be centuries old.

The guards continue on through the eastern door into a smaller room almost entirely empty, save for a gilded easel and folded-up curtains. A leather bench runs along the walls. It is some kind of display or presentation room for new works, one could imagine.

The next eastern door opens into a much larger Art Gallery. Here, great landscapes from the glory days of the Fraal March of old cover every foot of wall space straight up to the vaulted ceiling. Magnificent sculptures of heraldric beasts sprout up across the chamber, and pedestals hold bronze castings of historic elves. The guards and Neomund give it all little notice and proceed to the open door in the alcove to the east of the room where four more elven guards are waiting.

Just there, Clytemnestra does notice a corridor going north. It is strangely cold and silent. But in its shadowy depths, she notices another etched metal door like the one fused in the second-floor hallway. Though, this one is unmarred. The glimpse is too fleeting to take in if it bears the same pattern as the previous.

Father Neomund turns to Duke Orbal at the door. "If you would please surrender your weapon, your Grace." The same angry redness to his face which for the duration of the walk Orbal has been choking down begins to creep back up. His lips part around gritting teeth but in the end, he only grumbles and removes his arming belt handing over the bejeweled rapier.

"And the dagger at the small of your back," one of the guards behind the Duke speaks up.

Shooting him a deadly glare, Duke Orbal reaches back under his fur-lined half-cape and pulls out a slender blade still in its sheath. Handing it over, he's escorted inside. Father Neomund looks to the magician, like he is going to say something, but turns to go in as well, "This way, Lady Clytemnestra."

Only two of the guards follow them in and take up positions on either side of the now-closed entrance. The other eight linger in the gallery. Inside is a massive hexagonal chamber filled with patches of furniture on large Sandrinel rugs: sitting area, conference table, and at the far end, standing in front of three large windows is an ashwood desk. Rows of polished wooden cabinets line the longest wall. It is a fair bet, this is Father Neomund's office.

The chief steward directs the Duke to have a seat at the conference table while he himself goes to one of the cabinets. There is a glint and jingle of many hanging keys from inside, but the snow elf retrieves only a simple white candle. He places it in a candlestick saying, "Now, I would ask the Duke not to resist any compulsion he may feel... The Lady is free to come closer or stay at a distance, as she likes."

He doesn't wait longer than a second before igniting a tindertwig and lighting the candle. It shines a hollow, magical light that falls across the steward and the Duke.

To sit at the table with Neomund and Orbal, Clytemnestra would need to make a Will save versus an Enchantment effect unless she chooses to willingly fail. Of course, she can just as easily stand further away in the cavernous office and hear and speak normally with the pair without trouble. It's up to how she wants to appear to Neomund.

Something caught Clytemnestra's eye as they were moving through the Art Gallery (Hall of Art, Room #11): there's a painting there that is a detail-for-detail match to "The Lady of the Wood" described in Hargen's book. Its subject matter was in the "Reading in Hargen's book (Part 1)" PM, you and Metastachydium got.

The map of Allsatalos in the OOC will be updated after I post this.

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

The elven mage is winded by the walk, shorter than advertised though it was, and moves as slowly through the halls as she dares without incurring Neomund's capricious wrath. The artwork is clearly both of interest to her and a cause of much contemplation.

When Orbal is asked to divest himself of his weapons and Neomund stops himself from saying something to her, Clytemnestra calmly holds out her staff in both hands to him as well.

"I have full faith in your ability to carry on this investigation without resorting to violence, Neomund. Please feel free to hold onto my crutch if you wish."

As they arrive at the place of the candle, and Father Neomund's question twigs Clytemnestra to its true power and purpose, the realization causes her eyebrow to twitch upward. She does not leave Orbal's side, and stands in the circle of the candle's effect. While Neomund lights the candle, though, she pipes up with an immediate question.

"You are using up an item of power, an item almost certainly of greater value than that of the wine lost tonight. What is the real purpose of this interview, Neomund?"

Will save vs the candle's enchantment effect: [roll0]

[Metastachydium]

Kirsch slowly folds his arms behind his back as he watches Emalia depart. I wonder if you would be so kind as to share the exact details of the same with my humble self as well. he begins in a hushed and somewhat cold tone at last. I have been trying to piece the sorry scraps of information available to me together for a while now, and yet, I did only became aware that the old man who designated where my suite was to be and who brazenly took the liberty to impersonate the kind Lady and invite us here in her stead was Spycrist – and I had to learn that much from Lady Emalia herself, no less. his scaly hide is slowly turning a greyish blue as he speaks. Now, at this point I would greatly appreciate it if you could, perchance, explain what the meaning of this is supposed to be.

Someone's not exactly happy!

Kirsch begins to lose his temper and it shows. An orange spot begins to form on his throat as he looks up at Megamax to demand an answer. Meagan! Are you ignoring me at this point?

I'll IC assume Megamax was too busy watching the fireworks to notice that she's being talked to, so the lizard will give her a nudge.

[Erelamar]

Clytemnestra (with Neomund/Orbal, in Neomund's Office)

At Clytemnestra's offer of her staff, Father Neomund silently declines. They proceed inside. The pair of guards taking up positions at the door, the steward, Duke, and magician seat themselves around the conference table.

Clytemnestra immediately identifies the item's nature as a Candle of Truth. A minor gamble though it may have been, she is unfazed by its effects—her wizardly training and elven blood making it rather trivial. Even as she does so, Orbal shifts in his seat.

"Actually, it was four cases of the dinner red which were destroyed—"

"Gods," Duke Orbal mindlessly interjects.

"Indeed," responds Neomund. "When factoring the appreciation for their age, then, in fact, the value between them and the candles are comparable." The steward's deep black eyes do not catch any of the candle's light as he looks through it across the table to Clytemnestra. "And the purpose of this examination has been made perfectly clear: to see if Duke Orbal poses any danger to the security and stability of this castle."

Since his last outburst, Duke Orbal has been gazing intently into the ghostly flame dancing about the magic candle's wick. It's like he's having a staring contest with it. When he notices the magician's and father's back-and-forth finished, he looks up. His confidence returned. "You may proceed, steward."

"Let's us begin with a few preliminary queries." The snow elf produces a small ledger and ink pen, keeping the book tilted to conceal the pages' contents. He scratches a few shorthand notes and begins checking off things as he first asks, "How long was your trip from Bruckwald to Allsatalos."

To which Orbal swiftly responds, "Three days."

Neomund's questions increase in speed until they and the Duke's answers start to merge together. "What was your mode of transportation?" "My horse, Brosellenté." "You made excellent time, then. What road did you take?" "The High Road, as you would know." "Encounter any dangers?" "Only the weather." "Where is your son?" "Hunting, with friends." "Does your son enjoy hunting?" "Very much." "Do you enjoy hunting?" "Not particularly." "Do you miss your wife?" "Not particularly..."

Duke Orbal leaves his mouth hanging open for a few seconds before shutting it and glaring at the candle flame. That glare tracks over to Father Neomund. It's deathly. He begins to speak but stops himself. The hollow light of the candle flickers on his face. "Proceed, steward."

Unsurprised and unperturbed, Neomund says, "So, with that out of the way we can begin with the matter of the wine. Unless, there are any more objections from you, Lady Clytemnestra?" The Father's usually neutral face betrays a certain amount of "I told you so" as he awaits the magician's answer.

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra smiles faintly. So the buzzard is indeed circling Emalia for his own ends, and not just political ones, either.

She smiles sweetly at Neomund.

"Oh! You mean, aside from all of the objections you've run roughshod over, Neomund? No, no new ones in the last minute. I'll just be over here, enjoying how much you rely on magic to accomplish...whatever it is you're trying to accomplish here."

[Ripptor]

http://i.vgy.me/waS64S.png (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449194)

Having watched the slow woman latch onto the snow elf and be dragged away, Meagan was somewhat intrigued. The two of them are beginning to form a pattern of showing up and leaving together. At Emalia's urging that they get their story straight, Meagan looks back upwards towards something above, though not exactly what Kirsch assumes...

Megamax returns her focus to the colorful reptilian, her now only remaining companion. "It would seem we have some time of our own! Come watch with me..." Walking over to him and taking his shoulder before looking up with him at the "fireworks", she speaks more softly into his ear. "The man laughing up there is Spycrist, the lady's personal retainer, and of the opinion that Lady is in need of assistance. And the one that falsely sent for us under her name."

Pointing up at the latest firework as if focused, she explains, "Emalia is despondent and recklessly spending away her fortune, and our coin-strapped Orbal cozying up to Lady for his own ends. Neomund seems content to merely watch, but for his penchant to scare off any magicians that attempt to visit or reside, as the prior castle magician."

Turning back to Kirsch with a large smile not befitting their true conversation, she locks eyes with him before touching his mind directly for an even more private discussion. Truthfully, I wish our Lady well, but I too hope to avail myself of Allsatalos and the Tracery. I need to find something to secure my freedom from my family, surely hunting me at this very moment... Unless she has summoned enough true demons to capture me in her stead.

[Metastachydium]

Very well. Kirsch replies nodding, with only a hint of annoyance in his voice, his indignation all gone. In retrospect, I must applaud your decision to stand up for the Duke, then. Staying on the good side of the man – unpleasant as he may be – who might soon be the new lord of the castle is certainly a useful thing to do, especially if the current lady approves of it as well. I take it you are not among the principal causes of Orbal's current predicament, are you? he addswith a faint smile as his scales regain their usual green coloration. Not waiting for an answer, he unfolds his arms again to briefly glance at his rings, continuing to speak in the meantime, changing the subject smoothly – there might be a time for discussing Megamax's troubled past, but not right now. And, perhaps, neither is Ms. Dekatos. I wonder what do you make of her insistence to accompany the accuser and the accused, by the way. You know her better than I do.

[Erelamar]

Clytemnestra (with Neomund/Orbal, in Neomund's Office)

"It's good we finally understand one another," Father Neomund responds before turning back to Duke Orbal, flipping to a different page in the book he holds. "Now, your Grace, did you knock over the wine cases in the Main Kitchen resulting in the breaking of a great many bottles?"

"No."

The chief steward makes a show of looking between the magic candle and the Duke. "I am speaking of events of this day (and/or dusk or evening) when the aforementioned destruction took place."

The nobleman smirks. "Is there a question?"

The ink pen scribbles another notation in Neomund's ledger. "Very well. I go on to ask your Grace if while staying at Allsatalos he has ever..." The Father glances toward the Lady in the room then back to his notes. "Relieved himself in areas other than those designated for such purpose?"

Duke Orbal looks aghast. "No!"

Another tally goes on the page. The snow elf doesn't look up but continues to read his prepared notes. "Have you ever cast aspersions on the character of Lady Emalia, Marchioness of the Fraal March?"

A bead of sweat forms on the Duke's forehead. "Uh, well..." His eyes search the large, hexagonal office. They eventually settle on a hand-painted map of the Fraal March upon the wall. He tests his voice to see if he can make the words, "N-ah-t eh-n. Not in Castle Allsatalos."

Father Neomund clicks his tongue and makes another mark in the ledger. "Did you sneak backstage after the show tonight?"

"Uh, yes. But I will say, the backstage area is within the confines of the Grand Meeting Hall which had been opened to the guests. I did not defy your edict."

Neomund gives a faint smile. "In your previous visits, your Grace, have you moved about the castle unescorted? Into areas restricted to Allsatalos' servants and ruling family?"

"Umm..."

"Yes or no this time, Duke Orbal."

The candlelight flickers across Orbal's face which has taken on a sickly sheen of perspiration from the mental struggle. Finally, he blurts out, "Yes! Yes, I have." Neomund closes his ledger, satisfied. "But I had higher permission than yours. And, and..." A dawning sets in on the Duke. "You've never given that restriction before. Oh, there's been implications, but never have you stated it outright. Not before this time." Orbal turns to Clytemnestra, "I even commented on it when it happened, didn't I?" He points to the candle. "I must have, I cannot lie! What's so different about this time?"

The snow elf seems reluctant to answer.

Through sense motive, Clytemnestra is aware that Neomund is not particularly surprised by the Duke refuting the charges against him. The latter half of the questioning appeared to command much more of his attention.

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

Clytemnestra steps in between Neomund and Orbal.

"I believe that we have well and truly strayed from the topic of some crates of wine. Orbal, I will remind you that you are not under any obligation to respond to any questions you do not wish to answer. You have been exceedingly gracious in cooperating with this sham of an investigation as it is.

"Neomund, I would suggest that if you want any kind of answers from either of us, now would be the time for YOU to be honest about the reason for all of these questions, as I asked you a minute ago. You have asked a dozen questions, and only one was about the wine. A question which the Duke has answered definitively and, since there were no follow-up questions, clearly to your satisfaction.

"In short: do you have any remaining questions about the wine, or are you ready to apologize for accusing Duke Orbal in front of the other guests, and allowing us to return to the party?"

[Erelamar]

Clytemnestra (with Neomund/Orbal, in Neomund's Office)

When Clytemnestra stands, so does Father Neomund. There's the soft rattle of elven chain from the guards standing beside the door. The steward motions them to be still. Duke Orbal remains seated, even more baffled by the magician's forceful and passionate defense of him.

"That you would champion this kind of man is very surprising," begins Neomund. "That you believe someone like him would ever ally with you against me is inconceivable."

"Oh," Duke Orbal cuts in, "So, you know why she's here..."

"Of course, I know—"

The nobleman interrupts the steward with the following in so nonchalant a manner, so matter-of-factly, it barely registers as an accusation, like it's the most natural thing in the world, "To get back together with Emalia, now that she's rich."

Father Neomund stutters. His deep black gaze darts back and forth between the Duke and magician. "What?"

"Oh, yes, they had quite the time a few decades ago. I know all about it. I spotted 'Nessie' the moment I arrived. She's very distinctive. Back in the garden, I figured it was them: her, the demon girl, and that stuffy lizardman who worked together to frame me."

The snow elf still seems confused. "Well, yes. I had posited that... to keep me busy."

"Busy? No. They want you to do the dirty work of kicking me out—not that you wouldn't be thrilled at the opportunity—then she could swoop in on Emalia. Why she's standing for me now, I cannot fathom." Duke Orbal turns to Clytemnestra, the original smugness has returned to him. He's taking a sort of malicious glee in breaking the Father's calm and perhaps the magician's as well. His attitude is much improved with what he perceives to be the tables-turned. "Though maybe," he muses, "They're doing this to make you look bad, steward. But why?"

Father Neomund, for the second time, doesn't seem to know quite what to say to Orbal's words. While he clearly detests the Duke, there seems to be a good deal of consideration happening in him right now.

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

Clytemnestra does nothing to hide her genuine pain at the dredging up of her past, but aside from a certain distant moistness of the eyes, she offers up little in response to the Duke's words. Instead, she simply lifts a delicate hand to his cheek.

"This is the curse of knowledge, the danger of living your life among the aristocracy, dear Duke. You begin to think that everyone thinks like you, and that those who might have other priorities are simply pretending to have principles.

"I came here with you because I felt that you were being bullied without cause, and I thought that you could use a friend."

She glances sadly between the two men.

"I still believe that.

"Yes, Emalia and I have a past, and yes, I have a place in my heart for her, but if a marriage to you - loving or political or what have you - is what she wants, or what she needs, I won't be standing in the way."

She rounds on Neomund.

"I had thought that, hoped that, beneath your bullying and bigotry, there was at the very least someone who had the best interests of Lady Emalia and this exquisite edifice at heart. But here you are, interrogating a duke about urination, and speaking of petty alliances. Playing little games. You sadden me, Neomund. Perhaps you have simply lost your way, forgotten what it is to truly care about this place. Perhaps you can show me the grace that I thought I saw in you when we spoke in the library."

Clytemnestra believes everything she's saying right now, and a sense motive roll would reveal that.

[Erelamar]

Clytemnestra (wiht Neomund/Orbal, in Neomund's Office)

Duke Orbal is shocked at Clytemnestra's compassion. He looks up to her as if she were some alien thing he could not comprehend. As to the words leveled at Father Neomund, the steward swallows. The chastisement has the intended effect because the neutrality is gone, though instead of anger, he seems merely pained.

The snow elf turns his back on the pair. He stands silent for a moment, then his shoulders roll back straight and he folds his arms behind him. "Guards," orders Neomund. "You may escort Duke Orbal and Lady Clytemnestra back to the Eastern Garden. I'm finished with them, for now." The snow elf walks back to the ashwood desk and looks out the windows at the starlit mountains.

Duke Orbal stands while the guards open the door to the Hall of Art beyond. The nobleman straightens his tunic, smooths his hair, and shoots the back of Neomund's head one final glare. He solemnly nods to Clytemnestra and leaves with the armored elves.

Waiting for the gray elf magician to leave, perhaps knowing she would be the last—not a difficult assumption given her speed—Neomund does speak up once more, though does not turn back around, "It will always surprise me how with their vaunted intellects, magicians can still be such staggeringly poor judges of character."

The Duke can be heard in the echoing chamber beyond rather rudely receiving his weapons.

Father Neomund raises the closed ledger he's been referencing over his shoulder, "I have the sworn testimonies, many offered under a truth candle, of more than two dozen servants that witnessed the Duke's behavior this evening. They each described the exact same series of events: extreme drunkenness, wandering the servants' corridors, disparaging the Lady in a manner so vulgar I will not repeat it, publicly urinating on the floor of the Staff Dining Hall, and, yes, ruining thousands of gold pieces of irreplaceable wine. If it was not him (and we both know now it was not), who could have so thoroughly fooled so many honest men and women?" He tosses the ledger back down on the desk.

The Chief Steward of Allsatalos picks up a stack of papers and begins inspecting them. "I do not require an answer... yet." And maybe hearing the Duke's riding boots have already clicked away into the distance, he continues, "Oh, and a word to the wise: Should you decide at some point to come between Orbal and the Lady, just know, he'll... Well, I would sleep with one eye open."

For the majority of her dressing down of Neomund, Clytemnestra feels the snow elf first get snapped out of his confusion, then steadily grow more agitated. Sometime around "forgotten what it is to truly care about this place" is when his anger suddenly evaporates and he seems defeated.

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

Clytemnestra falters a bit. She stares after Duke Orbal for a moment, then slumps back into her seat while Neomund speaks.


"It will always surprise me how with their vaunted intellects, magicians can still be such staggeringly poor judges of character."

Clytemnestra can't keep the weariness and pain from her voice as she responds.

"We are not angels, Neomund, but flawed and misshapen pieces of flesh, like everyone else. It's when we pretend otherwise that we truly become troublesome.


"I do not require an answer... yet."

Clytemnestra pauses to consider.

"Well, here's one for free, then. Which of the troupe of actors wasn't on stage when the 'Duke' went on his rampage?"

When Neomund offers his final warning, Clytemnestra accepts it with a nod. And then realizes that, with his back turned to her, more is required.

"Thank you, Neomund. And...I apologize for the cruelty in my words, earlier. I do know, better than most, how difficult a task it can be to be close to Emalia. And the toll it can take. We might never be friends, you and I, but perhaps we can at least manage a mutual respect. Good evening, sir."

Drawing herself up, Clytemnestra begins the long process of retracing her steps back to the party.

[Erelamar]

Megamax and Kirsch (Eastern Garden)

The magicians watch the fireworks above the garden come to a triumphant finish. But it pales in comparison to the shock-and-awe campaign that Emalia wages on the Vollenveens when she assaults them with her brand of hospitality far away across the Eastern Garden lawn next to the grand swan ice sculpture. She appears in colorful confetti, taking the Countess' hand in such an exaggeratedly gracious manner the older, nearby nobles can't help but blush. Emalia already has Yzonde laughing and sharing secret confidences before the explosions above subside. The elves (including Lady Nadjiel) swarm closer, intrigued and shocked and delighted.

The Countess' glass is not even empty and Lady Emalia orders it refilled, along with her brother, the Baron's, who loudly cheers, "Hear, hear!" Lady Emalia calms them, and with her presence, other nobles flock to their sides. Not to mention the actors, dancers, and other professionals from the hired troupe which performed for so many hours before; they come bearing nothing but sweet words for the Vollenveens.

The tiefling and lizardman magicians are left without much to do, hanging back. They can see their previous acquaintances actually keep their distance as well; for Emalia entertains the Countess. Lady Lilet and her crowd, Dominique and the few human nobles who congregate around her, and old Hargen Orq hovering over a platter of delicacies, each dare not approach. They mingle in patches about the Eastern Garden, gossiping among themselves, waiting for something to happen. Knowing, that of course, nothing will.

This would be the events that happen between Neomund/Clytemnestra/Orbal's leaving and their return. If there's any group the PCs want to single out on their own in the meantime, this is the opportunity.

[Erelamar]

Megamax, Kirsch, and Clytemnestra (in the Eastern Garden)

The lizardfolk and tiefling magicians first witness Duke Orbal's return through the pergola to the First Hall. The nobleman appears somewhat harried but collects himself upon the steps. He takes a glass of wine from a passing tray, pausing for a moment to eye it askance. Fortifying himself, the Duke proceeds across the dark green lawn to Lady Emalia and the Vollenveens, currently being swarmed by Lady Nadjiel and many elves, and the various colorful performers from Cirque du Sphinx troupe—Hargen Orq, now well-fed, orbiting at the edge of the crowd. The Duke of Bruckwald deftly navigates the mob to stand once again by Emalia's side, making people laugh as he does so with his smooth, almost-charming arrogance.

Only a few moments later, Clytemnestra emerges as well. Two guards had brought her the same route to the Eastern Garden. The armored elves go no further and recede back into the First Hall and then the Grand Foyer, off to elsewhere.

The gray elf sees the social pockets which have formed during her absence: Emalia and her thick crowd (already rejoined by Duke Orbal); Lady Lilet and her gaggle; another smaller group of human well-to-do's around Dominique; and Megamax and Kirsch speaking quietly, standing very near the same spot she had left them.

The feint silhouette of Spycrist high up in the windows to Guest Library had stopped chuckling but did linger to watch the goings-on in the Eastern Garden. When Duke Orbal returns, he shoots straight up—apparently, he had been sitting—and looms there behind the dark glass as Orbal returns to Emalia's side. The figure throws his hands up and moves eastward out of sight.

[Metastachydium]

Kirsch does his best to keep up a calm facade; only the way in which he nervously rubs the claws of his right hand against each other betrays his true state of mind. He looks around the garden, surveying the scene but no distraction presents itself readily. He'll have time to bother Master Hargen the next day, supposing he can convince the Lady that he had nothing to do with the Orbal affair and Lady Nadjiel, probably the only other person worth talking to in the entire courtyard is otherwise occupied. He would really rather stay as far away from both Lady Lilet and Dominique as possible.


♣

Orbal's glorious return comes as a relief: it will probably help placate Emalia somewhat. Hopefully, Clytemnestra managed to make herself useful in there too and the Duke will mention that at least in passing. Otherwise, it will be hard to salvage this operation.


♣

When the elven magician finally arrives as well, the lizard is quick to approach her. Once she's close enough for a hushed tone not to hinder talking too much, he addresses her with a simple So? of a surprising brevity.

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

Clytemnestra is both preoccupied and a bit disheveled from the experience of the interrogation. While she manages a smile in response to Kisch's approach, there's no real pleasure in it. Once Megamax also joins them, Clytemnestra leans in to confer quietly.

"Neomund seems convinced that someone impersonated Orbal and wrecked the wine, but didn't seem surprised that it wasn't the real Orbal. The duke is very much pursuing Emalia as a bride, despite still being married. Neomund places far too much faith in Candles of Truth. More later.

"Did I miss anything interesting here?"

[Metastachydium]

Nothing of particular note. Kirsch shakes his head slowly, his tone thoughtful somewhat and and cautious, if not quite hostile. Meagan and I had a brief discussion regarding Spycrist and his designs, in anticipation of the kind Lady expressing her displeasure with us later this evening, which she promised to do. Speaking of, the lizard raises his right hand gracefully, extending a clawed finger. while your reaction to Orbal's arrest tells me otherwise, I must, nevertheless, ask this: do you or did you wish to comply with Spycrist's requests?

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

Clytemnestra's brow furrows further, proving that that was in fact possible. Her voice is soft and strained with emotion.

"Effectively, Orbal asked me the same thing. I'll give you the same answer. I'll do what I think will make Emalia happy. If I can."

Cognizant of the insufficiency of this response, she simply offers a small shrug.

"And you, my Lord?"

[Metastachydium]

The non-answer annoys the lizard, as does the strong implication that they may not be on the same side, after all. A thin blue streak forms on his snout, running back along the length of his skull and he closes his eyes for a moment before looking up at Clytemnestra and giving her a tired smile. Spycrist did not approach me to seek aid or give directions. That he even invited me must have itself been an act of desperation, welcome as it may be. Not that it matters much: the Duke is a risk factor, that is true; however, I have no desire, whatsoever, to move against him unless my hand is forced. Kirsch pauses briefly at this point and lowers his voice. Father Neomund, on the other hand, is a different matter altogether. He gives a sidelong glance to the crowd surrounding the Lady and then to the window where Megamax said Spycrist was watching the scene from. I wonder who else the old man might have tried to summon here, by the way. Lustig claimed he had an invitation when we arrived. I had my doubts then, but there must be some truth to it. Hm. the magician folds his arms behind his back. It remains to be seen, I suppose.

[Erelamar]

Megamax, Kirsch, and Clytemnestra (in the Eastern Garden)

As the evening evolves beneath the stars, old Hargen Orq is first to call it a night. He's been doing his best to engage people about Emalia's mob but, for the most part, is either politely disengaged with or flat-out ignored. Taking it all with a boozy calm, the ancient human finally hobbles away on his walking stick towards the pergola entrance back into the First Hall. A young human servant, effusively bowing, takes the fabulist's arm to help him up the stairs and presumably back to his specially prepared room off the Portrait Gallery.

Hargen does pause for one final wistful gaze upon the Eastern Garden. Taking note of the magicians, he gives them a soft but cheerful wave "farewell." The old man and the servant begin their plodding march back to Hargen's chambers.

Nearly the same time, Lady Emalia can be heard across the garden mock chastizing the Cirque du Sphinx performers, "What is all this cavorting? Have you not another show this visit? Be off with you for a good night's sleep: back to your dormitories the lot of you!" She lays a hand on the forearm of a servant holding a silver tray. "We did separate the boys from the girls this time didn't we?" She busts into raucous laughter while the Vollenveens giggle and Duke Orbal rolls his eyes with a smile. "Begone! And see your youthful naughtiness tonight finds you no worse for wear come the morrow!"

Duke Orbal adds, "And remember, no wandering the halls! Or the castle's old bogeyman may get you!" He grins. "Which is to say the white elf." There are laughs and groans in equal measure.

The actors, dancers, singers, stagehands, and makeup artists begin to scatter. As they do so, Lady Lilet von Bleak's own band begin to intercept some for a few moments conversation which for whatever reason they did not engage in during the time the performers swarmed their hostess. Lady Lilet however comes to notice the magicians across the dark green lawn, and making an exaggerated gesture of counting their number, she sets out to cross the grass and speak with them.

Since Megamax pointed out the window earlier, Kirsch has just made out Spycrist's shadow hovering there for quite some time. When Kirsch looks back now that Orbal and Clytemnestra have returned, he finds Spycrist is no longer there.

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

Kirsch's response elicits some strong emotions in Clytemnestra, and it seems like she is stiffening her spine for a more fulsome response, but his final comment takes the wind from these sails.

"Wait, Lustig is here? Where? Did he just arrive?"

--

Endeavouring to make a virtue of necessity, Clytemnestra paints on a broad smile and moves slowly to intercept Lady Lilet - giving Megamax and Kirsch an opportunity either to join her or escape, as they desire.

"Lady Lilet! What did you think of the performance? I admit to being too much a traditionalist to full immerse myself in this more modern fare. But the virtuosity on display was most impressive, don't you think?"

[Metastachydium]

The scales on the lizard's head become dimmer somewhat, reflecting his surprise and confusion. My. I could have sworn I have informed the two of you that Victor Lustig and I arrived, by happenstance, at the same time, if not together to Allsatalos. Supposing he did not get himself removed from the castle grounds in some way, he must have been here for most of this afternoon. he replies, turning towards the departing Hargen Orq in the meantime, his hide assuming a friendly, radiant green colour as he waves back to the old man.

It was in fact the first thing Kirsch told the others when they met; v. post no. 58.


♣

When the lizard catches sight of Lady Lilet homing in on them, he has to make a conscious effort to keep his colours from shifting. Nevertheless, when Clytemnestra courteously sallies forth to intercept her, he doesn't turn to flee. Lady Lilet gave them Master Hargen, and she might have more to offer. He does, on the other hand, make sure to keep the elven magician between the lady and himself.

[Erelamar]

Kirsch, Megamax, and Clytemnestra (with Lady Lilet, Eastern Garden)

Finally across the broad dark green lawn, and clearly, with something on her mind, Lady Lilet halts in thought before Clytemnestra's question. "Oh," she responds. "Yes, what a spectacle! Haven't seen its like in years, not even the other times I've been to Allsatalos...

"Then again, I did overhear after the show from a couple of those Cirque du Sphinx folks that Emalia made changes rather suddenly today; I don't know what since I've never seen the original play—I'm afraid we're more a taproom band bunch in Bleaksburg." She emits her careless laugh. "Anyway, yes, had them practicing their taut behinds off in the New Ballroom all afternoon. All happened rather abruptly, too; they'd been here since yesterday evening." Lady Lilet's toothy grin returns. "But that's Emalia for you. Never know what to expect!"

The human noblewoman gazes for a moment into her wine, a crisp Sandrinel white. The former thought returned to her and just as she was peering around the gray elf at Kirsch, she catches him sharing a wave with the departing Hargen Orq. Again, shaken from her purpose, she says, "Oh, I am sorry for that. I'm such a wicked thing to saddle you up with that old man, whew! but isn't he long-winded? That was just a bit of fun, really. I hope he didn't cling to the pair of you too desperately.

"Honestly, I don't know why he keeps showing up. You see how the rest ignore him. It's sad, really. I don't think his memory is quite what it used to be; he's told me the same story about the state of his chateau's vegetable garden five times in as many visits. I'd dare say it's possible he can't even remember getting snubbed by the other guests!" Lady Lilet von Bleak's grin, though still wide, does slip a bit in a hint of compassion.

[Metastachydium]

The ridges above the lizard's eyes take on a stern, steely hue. Rest assured that your concerns are entirely unwarranted. Lady Lilet. the tone of his voice is even, but less than friendly. For my part, I enjoyed our conversation with Master Hargen tremendously.

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

Clytemnestra's eyes twinkle, finally matching the smile she wears.

"Indeed. Hargen was the soul of courtesy, My Lady."

Clytemnestra made a mental note to buttonhole a player to find out what last-minute changes Emalia had demanded.

"And how are you now, Lady Lilet? I don't know how much more merriment I have left in me this evening. Are you nearly ready to retire as well?"

[Ripptor]

http://i.vgy.me/waS64S.png (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449194)

Meagan listens absent-mindedly to Clytemnestra's story about Orbal's ordeals with a few thoughts of her own, pondering possibilities until she hears about the questioning under candles of truth. Faith, indeed. As the two debate their own personal desires, she watches Spycrist's window with thoughtful curiosity as he leaves her sight. Out of any certainty, Meagan knows what she wants. The only question remains is with whom her interests align.

At the mention of the other magicians, and Clytemnestra's own forgetfulness of them, Meagan assuages Kirsh that he was not being ignored (again), "Indeed. Lustig was uncharacteristically quiet this evening, when I found him in the baths. And I've not seen poor old Kotoba and his young girlfriend since we've arrived... Just where has everyone gone off to?" She shrugs, sending a watery cascade through the lacework down her shoulders.

As the party begins to dwindle and it's participants begin attrition, Megamax wiggles a bit as she is not yet ready to call it a night. Grinning as Lady Lilet wanders to them from the Vollenveens and the crowd performers, Meagan swishes over to join them all and hear all about the conversation she arranged between them and Hargen, peicing together that he was the only other old man that retired early (Besides Spycrist!)

"Indeed, Lady appears to be pulling out all the stops tonight... Trying again to impress those Vollenveens?" At the mention of retiring early, Meagan's eyes split wide. "Oh, but we still have so much evening ahead of us! I certainly intend to find some time to drink, yet." Meagan winks at Lady Lilet, per their earlier conversation on the topic.

Looking around at the party, and sensing the time, Meagan raises an eyebrow of her own. "Perhaps it's time to add something of my own to the festivities tonight..."


Catching up on the 20+ posts I'm behind!

Meagan had already provided all of the information she was willing to share prior, so she's been mostly quiet as she listens and pieces together all the new information on her own.

The day is wrapping up and Meagan is still brimming with unspent sorcery burning to get out. Perhaps one last firework? :smallwink:

A level 10 Fireball should be a special enough sight in this world to attract attention, right? Magicians with CL 10 are rare, less those that didn't ban Evocation, and less that would blow a whole 10 SP on a single casting, since the SP system discriminates against these damage spells? Or am I reading the setting wrong?

Were the rest of the Fireworks just Illusion spells? Actual explosions? or just simple fireworks?
Spellcraft check, if needed: [roll0]

Meagan would be happy to "add" to the festivities, if it would be an impressive display, to show off to Lady and the Vollenveens herself (and get her own personal ecstacy out of the rush of blowing 10 SP at once!)

[Erelamar]

Kirsch, Megamax, and Clytemnestra (with Lady Lilet, Eastern Garden)

Seeing that she's raised at least Kirsch's hackles, Lady Lilet makes a dismissive wave, "All's well, that ends well, then. Perhaps, what old Hargen needed was a more intelligent audience." Again, she flashes her trademark toothy grin.

At Clytemnestra's words, Lady Lilet nods. "Oh, I believe this might be dying down..." She glances toward the slowly diminishing crowd around Emalia. "Yes! I just saw the Vollenveens yawn. Once, the *ahem* unnecessary guests have called it a night, Lady Emalia and those left will retire to the Upper Withdrawing Room for a nightcap and some pleasant gossip.

"I had promised Meagan, here, I would do my best to get you magicians in but now I see—from the way the Lady beelined it to your group when she arrived—that that's probably not going to be a problem. I think." Lady Lilet von Bleak waits for some confirmation. "I could take the four of us up early. It shouldn't be but a few more moments before the rest have been cleared out. And I must say I'm beginning to tire of standing."

Across the Eastern Garden, Duke Orbal is shaking hands with Bargon Vorgus while patting him on the back at the same time beginning to steer him towards the pergola entrance to the First Hall—where currently, several elves, Dominique "the Cleaver," and a few of Lady Lilet's group are already ascending the steps. Lady Emalia, currently clutching both of Countess Yzonde's hands in a sweet goodbye, is even more subtly doing the same.

Of the few who seem to knowingly linger, besides Lady Lilet and the magicians, there is only Nadjiel of Spyre and the odd pair of nobles who finish each other's sentences who usually hang around Lilet. Of course, Duke Orbal isn't going anywhere either.

From your previous conversation with Lady Lilet, you know the Upper Withdrawing Room is beyond the double wooden doors just a way's down the hallway from the melted metal door with the once artful etchings.

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

Clytemnestra is of course interested in seeing more of how Duke Orbal is actually treating Emalia, and a little time in quiet conversation would be most welcome. She turns to smile, a bit wearily, at Kirsch and Megamax.

"Lady Lilet, you are the soul of courtesy. I can't speak for my colleagues, but one more glass of wine, and a bit of sharing of news, would be most welcome."

[Metastachydium]

The soul of courtesy and a veritable font of welcome knowledge! Kirsch adds, all green and friendly again, clearly placated by the lady insulting herself while praising them and giving up some useful information. The kind Lady did, in fact, express her wish to discuss a number of matters with us, and I am confident that my peers here are just as eager to grant this wish as I am. he continues, stepping a little closer to the toothy noblewoman.

[Erelamar]

Kirsch, Megamax, and Clytemnestra (with Lady Lilet, Eastern Garden)

Lady Lilet von Bleak downs the last of her wine, setting the crystal glass on the tray of a passing servant. She claps her hands. "Well, then, that's settled. Off we go."

Sparing one final look at Emalia and Orbal artfully suggesting it's bedtime for the Vollenveens, Lady Lilet leads the three magicians back to the pergola and the First Hall. She falls into line behind the mass of noble guests ascending the grand staircase to the second-floor landing. But while they wander off along the western hallway back to their suites, she turns right and takes the other corridor, where two elven guards in silvery armor are stationed. They give Lady Lilet a look, but she raises a single finger in silent rebuke. The pair share a glance and step aside.

"That's. What. I thought," laughs the noblewoman passing between sentries. They stay parted for the magicians as well, saying nothing, but looking less than pleased.

After a brief walk, the party arrives at an archway beyond which expands an enormous, luxurious area—the Upper Withdrawing Room. Numerous comfortable couches, next to which still stand chilled wine in decanters of prismatic glass. Various dishes are arranged full of delicate confections. The frescos along the walls show scenes of famous elven pageantry and dance. From the candlestick holders to the divans and objets d'art, everything drips with costliness.

The magicians, though, are perhaps more focused on something of which they all take notice: the runes along the archway leading into this new chamber. They are cold and dormant but leave the tiefling, gray elf, and lizardman with the impression of great and ancient power. Lady Lilet, for her part, passes beneath them as if they were no more than any other decoration.

Across the Upper Withdrawing Room, where the hallway continues on deeper into Allsatalos' northern wing, there again is another archway bearing the same runes. Also, the moonlight seeping in through the tall windows looking out over the Eastern Garden catches on a familiar shine down the corridor: a metal door etched with delicate patterns. Unlike its twin, this one is not melted or fused into its frame.

The map of Allsatalos in the OOC second post has been updated. Any skill checks (or maybe subtly cast Detection spells) you wish to do just let me know in the OOC thread.

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

Making her usual slow progress through the hallways, Clytemnestra buttonholes Lady Lilet, alternately prompting for her take on the rising and falling stars of the social season and pointing out ways in which the architecture and aesthetics of Allsatalos either remind her of or differ from Crystal City.

This is both out of a genuine interest - if she is to move in these strange, rarified circles, it pays to know the players - and to give Megamax and Kirsch as much opportunity as they need to explore as they went.

However her voice drops away as they reach the silver the Withdrawing room, and the archway across the hall. Her voice drops a decibel, and she stares at the door beyond. She turns to the others.

"Please, excuse me a moment. The past is not...the past, in the same way, for my people. May I have a moment?"

She moves to the doors, not so much touching them as seeming to commune with them.

All of which is to say, Clytemnestra is doing a search check on the doors, and attempting to understand the archway runes and the door patterns.

Search: [roll0] (and trapfinding, I suppose)
I'm not sure what to roll for the others. Knowledge Arcana? [roll1] Knowledge Local? [roll2] Spellcraft? [roll3] UMD? [roll4]

[Metastachydium]

The lizard cares little about the conversation between Lady Lilet and Clytemnestra; rather, he lags a few paces behind, keeping an eye out, stopping dead for the fraction of a second upon noticing the runes on the archway. He then draws closer to the entrance of the room slowly, focusing on the marks and makes sure to turn around having passed through to inspect the other side as well. Why, this place is a marvel to behold. he remarks as he begins to amble around the room, surveying the murals and stopping just short of the hallway leading to the metal door to look up at the runes on the othe other archway as well. He manages to fight off a strong urge to follow Clytemnestra through and all the way to the door, and suppresses a smug smile when his cursory glance reveals that this one is likely undamaged. Bypassing it should be a child's play.
Its position also gets him thinking: it would seem that both etched doors lead into roughly the same area,a section with no windows. Terribly convenient, terribly convenient indeed.


Okay, so first a Spot in the hallway leading up to the Withdrawing Room, just in case: Spot: [roll0]
then, Knowledge (arcana): [roll1]
Knowledge (history): [roll2]
Knowledge (architecture & engineering): [roll3]
Knowledge (local): [roll4]
and Spellcraft: [roll5] on the two archways and the runes,
as well as a Spot: [roll6] to see if the lizard sees something interesting in the hallway with the etched door and
another Knowledge (architecture & engineering): [roll7] regarding large windowless rooms like the one behind the metal doors should be.

[Ripptor]

[QUOTE=Ripptor;25179315]
http://i.vgy.me/waS64S.png (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449194)

Megamax considers for a moment, then decides against her own explosive additions, for tonight. The Snow Elf appeared to be at his wit's end already, and she doesn't need to add a target on her back before the others arrive. There will be time for her ecstasies later...

At Lilet's follow-up suggestion of the drawing room, Meagan snaps back to the matter at hand. "Lets us away! We can lead the afterparty ourselves!" Going arm-in-arm with Lady Lilet once more, she follows along with her back through where she remembered the way to be, keeping an eye out for any extra doors along the path. Smiling at the guards as they lat them pass, Meagan is happy to let Lilet make their way for them... She may abuse herself of the Lady's already hard-fought right to the rest of the building by association later. For now, she's already headed where she expects to need, towards the melted door and a potential bypass through it's side-room...

Leading up the the Drawing room, her eyes linger on the archway runes for a moment, without stopping Lilet on her arm to let her glances be obvious, but her attention is held be the large, undamaged etched door. "Oh, how marvelous!" As Clytmenestra makes a show of emotion, the Tiefling squeezes Lilet's arm and leans onto her to keep her still, while she examines with practiced eyes and a quiet incantation with her hidden hand... Keeping her eyes on the door, Meagan asks Lilet, "Has Lady ever past told the story of these frescoes?"


Yes! Another way in, as we'd hoped! :smallsmile:

For the Runes (and the Hallway in general):
[roll0]
[roll1]
[roll2]
[roll3]
[roll4]
[roll5]

Assuming she knows that the Runes aren't a Magic-detection alarm, she'll cast another Detect Magic spell ... Otherwise just the observation checks!

As for the Ethed door (and the Drawing Room at large):
[roll6]
Casting Detect Magic, [roll7]
Examining the undamaged door, [roll8]
[roll9]
[roll10]
[roll11]
[roll12]

And ... Asking Lilet for any prior drunk rambles about the significance of the etching and surrounding stories. She's been super useful so far! :smallsmile:

[Erelamar]

Kirsch, Megamax, and Clytemnestra (with Lady Lilet, Upper Withdrawing Room)

"Huh?" says Lady Lilet to Clytemnestra's words. "Oh, sure, hon," when she finally takes her meaning. As the gray elf wanders slowly between the two archways towards the metal door, Lady Lilet has her back to them going over to the glittering carafes of wine to pour herself another glass. Megamax has to release her arm lest she be lead away from where she can look towards this new metal door. Of the tiefling's spellcasting, the noblewoman seems none the wiser.

"Hmm?" Lady Lilet takes a heart sip of her new beverage. She looks out over the frescoed walls. "Ha! I doubt she knows them. I know I don't. We're not art historians, dear. I think they're elven legends, maybe, probably. Like scenes from a painted storybook. But oh, if these walls could talk..."

As Lady Lilet rambles, the tiefling and lizardman hover nearby the second archway doing their best to make out what they can of the metal door. Clytemnestra wanders down to it though, apparently transfixed in reminiscence. All three can see, despite the dim lighting, that this hallway is very long and ends in another, smaller archway also inscribed with runes. Just beyond that is one of the narrow, spiral stairwells commonly used by the castle's staff.

The tall windows besides all three magicians look out over the Eastern Garden. They can now see it is perhaps half-again as large as the western one and encased by the high walls of Allsatalos' East Wing—which to anyone with even a passing knowledge of architecture can tell it to be the newest section of the castle but still likely more than a thousand years old.

Far below among the dark trees and still black waters of the garden, the crowd has dwindled significantly. Emalia, Orbal, and the Volleveens are no longer in sight; they are perhaps already under the pergola into the First Hall.

There is a squeak of leather upholstery, and Lady Lilet calls out from where she has seated herself in a wingback armchair, "Hey, there, whatcha doing all the way down on that side of the room? Have yourselves a drink, I'm sure Em will be here any minute."

The maps are back up in the OOC second post (https://forums.giantitp.com/showsinglepost.php?p=25055983&postcount=2) under the Geographical Information spoiler. At least at the time of writing this. :smallannoyed:
Megamax is currently out of range to use her detect magic on the new runes at the end of this corridor. She would need to be at least next to the new metal door to get them in range.

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

Clytemnestra bends to a crouch, leaning heavily on her staff, and traces the lines of the elven children harvesting and playing on the doors. Requesting a little help from Kirsch, she rises and nods solemnly at her companion. When he seems ready to do so, rejoins Lilet and Megamax in the Withdrawing Room. She pours wine for herself and offers the same to the others before joining Lilet.

"And the walls do talk, my Lady. They simply use extremely hushed tones."

She smiles and has a sip.

"But I would agree with your assessment of Lady Emalia's interests. I seem to recall that her bedroom had the most appalling painting, in which two centaurs and a dryad were engaged in a most vigorous and physiologically unlikely...well, anyway, it didn't likely make it up onto the walls of Allsatalos."

[Metastachydium]

Realizing what the runes are, Kirsch can't help but click his tongue. Emalia's a lucky one, luckier than she has any right to be to marry into this. It's too bad that if activated (and Neomund has no reason not to do just that), these little wonders will almost certainly interfere with any attempt to peek past the iron door when the area is, well, even less crowded.
Clytemnestra's call for a little help interrupts the lizard's train of thought, but he doesn't mind that in the slightest bit. He hurries to the elf's aid, glad to find a good excuse to take a closer look at door. He makes a conscious effort not to linger about too long, lest he draws unwanted suspicion and is quick to accompany Clytemnestra back to the other two, politely declining the offer of wine with a serene smile and a graceful motion of his left hand and looks around for something to eat instead.


Kirsch wasn't in a good position to examine the door properly before and didn't have Clytemnestra's "I'm an elf doing elf stuff" excuse, but luckily for him she helped him out, so I get to do the checks. Again.
Knowledge (arcana): [roll0]
Knowledge (architecture & e.): [roll1]
Knowledge (local): [roll2]
Knowledge (history): [roll3]
Knowledge (nobility & royalty): [roll4]
Knowledge (religion): [roll5]
Spellcraft: [roll6]

[Ripptor]

http://i.vgy.me/waS64S.png (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449194)

Megamax smiles as she takes in everything in the room, mentally marking it all down as it comes cascading through. "Talk, indeed." Wandering past the wine and sitting areas, Meagan spins her neck in a visible show of artistic appreciation. "As beautiful as this is, it's painted even moreso for a magician's eye... A moment, I want to see this relief for myself as well. Then the wine!" Walking under the archway and down the corridor just enough to make out the door better, Meagan stops to admire the undamaged one, while Clytemnestra regales Lilet of the scandalous artwork.

My notes are filling up! I'll need more space soon...

Checking out the far hallway and the door at it's end, before rejoining the party right afterwards!
[roll0]

[Erelamar]

Kirsch, Megamax, and Clytemnestra (w/ Lady Lilet, Upper Withdrawing Room)

Watching the magicians move to-and-fro popping in and out of sight down the corridor, Lady Lilet von Bleak shrugs, "My-my, someones have gotten their second wind!"

At Clytemnestra's words, Lady Lilet perks up with great interest, "Oh-ho, my dear. Did she really? Now, you simply must tell me all about it. I am curious to hear what you all have to say about Emalia before she came to the Fraal. What was she like? Oh, we get tidbits don't you know, anecdotes, really. But to hear about the youth of a famous performer, from firsthand accounts, would be truly marvelous!"

The high elf aristocrat Nadjiel of Spyre appears in the archway back to the landing of the Grand Staircase. "I, too, am most curious about such things as well. Our good Lady did seem to be most absorbed by your presence," and the three magicians remember how curtly Lady Emalia greeted the elf when she first engaged with them. Nadjiel enters the room and steps up to a sideboard to take a glass of wine. "At least until Countess Yzonde came to be unattended."

"Gods, did you see that hat!" Lady Lilet bubbles over with a slightly malicious laugh.

"I did." Lady Nadjiel cooly sips her wine.

"Like a chandelier! I'm surprised anybody in the back rows could see the play at all! It must have come from the Overkingdom, I can't imagine Sandrine fashions have fallen so far since last season."

"Enharza, actually. She's trying to make it a thing among the Alliance nobility." Nadjiel's eyelids droop. "It was a topic of thorough discussion."

"Did you compliment it?" Lilet's toothy grin is on full display.

Smelling the bouquet of the wine, Lady Nadjiel wears a wry smile as she answers, "Effusively."

[Metastachydium]

Kirsch, ever smiling, leans against a table, listening to the idle chatter of the two noblewomen with very mild interest. Fashion never really was a field that he cared about much. He doesn't mind this little change of topic of course: he has, in fact, painfully little to say about Emalia and some of what he could say is not meant to be spoken about (or, at any rate, it wasn't back in the day). He would really rather talk about something other than that, and if it has to be some hat, then so be it. Why, this subtlety and, indeed, civility is certainly admirable. he remarks. Sometimes I have the distinct impression that, perhaps, we Mieseners place too much value in being straightforward.


Let's see what the lizard knows about Enharza:
Knowledge (geography): [roll0]
Knowledge (local): [roll1]
Knowledge (history): [roll2]

[Ripptor]

http://i.vgy.me/waS64S.png (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449194)

Megamax returns from the far hallway carefully, slipping back into the room with the others before it locks them all in without her... How boring would that be?

Meagan returns just in time to witness Nadjiel's entrance from the archway, and listen to the women's chatter, and Kirsh's indictment of the same. Jumping in herself, "Oh, the cutting edge of fashion can sometimes make you bleed. Or, do the same to the eyes of your audience..." Laughing, Meagan catches a wine crystal of her own and turns back to the subject of Emalia.

"I've only witnessed Emalia in her traveling performer days, back when she advocated for my own magical studies. She made quite the splash in the Valley of Fire... brought a good bit of flair and color to the area it was quite missing."

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

The grey elf sips her wine.

"Yes, I'd say that 'colour' and 'flair' are words that would be closely associated with Emalia. While, of course, I would never say anything to disparage our delightful host, I think it's fair to add that I knew her before she was a Lady, and before she was a lady. But I am delighted that she has so thoroughly landed on her feet, and in such excellent company."

Clytemnestra turns to Kirsch with a bit of wine-infused fun in her face for the first time that evening.

"My good Lord Kirsch, while it may be true that a straight line is the shortest path between two points, I have also heard it said that a story is the most interesting path. You yourself seem to have found a perfect comprimise, being both an engaging conversationalist and a forthright speaker."

This seems to trigger a melancholy thought in Clytemnestra, and she sets down her glass.

"Well, one little story about Emalia, perhaps. It was a foggy morning, late fall, and word spread that the young Marquis Lawrencio had gone boating, but his boat had drifted to shore without him. It was believed that the impetuous lad, known more a lover than a sailor, may have fallen into the river.

"A dozen boats and more set out on the river to look for him, and Emalia and I were on one of them. Most of the boats started downriver, assuming that that's where the boy would have floated, but Emalia insisted we go up-river. As we rowed and peered into the mist, Emalia's lovely contralto drifted over the surface of the water, weaving they boy's name into a song. Simply finding rhymes for Lawrencio should have earned her a reward. Sure enough, we found him drunk, standing on a sandbar and waving furiously at our approach.

"Emalia would take no money as reward, but only a month's lodging in Lawrencio's estate. The which, I assure you, she parlayed into much greater rewards than for simply rescuing a sodden boy.

"I asked her, as we rowed back to town, how she had known to look upstream and not down. Emalia had simply smiled and said that if everyone else is wearing purple, the best course of action is always to buy a yellow dress."

[Erelamar]

Kirsch, Megamax, and Clytemnestra (with Lilet/Nadjiel, Upper Withdrawing Room)

"Oh, look at you going with the flattery, again," beams Lady Lilet von Bleak to Clytemnestra's compliment. At the conclusion of the gray elf's tale, she decrees it to be, "Classic Emalia. Doesn't that just sound like her, Nadjy?"

Lady Nadjiel of Spyre had been quietly considering Megamax while Clytemnestra spoke. Like, she was really giving thought to the colorful tiefling for the first time. This attention had started just as she mentioned the Valley of Fire. Though, just as quickly, the high elf aristocrat is knocked from her contemplation by Lilet's playful moniker. "Ah, yes, of course. True to form, indeed, Lady Bleak."

The more casual noblewoman merely smiles and rolls her eyes toward the magicians.

Again, Lady Nadjiel enjoys the bouquet of her wine and makes the slightest show of looking around the cavernous Upper Withdrawing Room, empty save for the three magicians and two nobles. She says, "I must say I do praise the Mieseners' dialogue, and so must agree with Lord Kirsch as to how I prefer my nonfiction presented. And Lord Kirsch, while we enjoy this privacy, what topic would you care to speak about more plainly?"

Even capricious Lady Lilet turns to the lizardman magician with no small curiosity.

[Metastachydium]

You are as gracious as ever, Ms. Dekatos. Kirsch gives the elf a warm smile and a short, simple bow. Your own skill with words is nothing if not enviable either. he adds, before leaning back against the table, handing the floor back to Clytemnestra.
While his peer recounts the story of Emalia and the drunken young marquis, the lizard makes sure she gives her the usual signs of appreciation and interest, small nods and smiles and shifts in the colourful patterns of his scales, but he also finds some time to taste a few confections, savouring them with obvious gusto, and to keep a keen eye on the others around himself. He takes note of Lady Nadjiel's sudden interest in Meagan, but curious as it is, he chooses to give little thought to it for now. Meagan is good at drawing attention to herself. She always was.


♣

Case in point. he says, a friendly smile playing in the corners of his mouth as Clytemnestra finishes up her tale. He soon finds he has little reason for joy: his attempt at small talk has driven him into a corner. He shakes his head slowly. I would love to humour you, Lady Nadjiel; I cannot, nevertheless see how what preoccupies my mind the most since a certain, quite recent occurence could be a pleasant matter to discuss. Kirsch pauses shortly. If he can't escape the trap he laid himself, he might as well make the most of it. You see, I have close relatives in the clergy – two siblings, in fact. Their chosen vocation, as I and, for that matter, they see it, requires a degree of humility at the very least. he taps the top of the table with the claws on his right hand, thoughtfully. I see very little of that in the, otherwise estimable, chaplain of Allsatalos. An attitude so bellicose, to the very point of impertinence as he exhibited in front of our very eyes in the Eastern Garden is thoroughly unbecoming of one that serves powers higher than us, even allowing for the ramifications, so to say, of his loyalties. The magician pauses again, looking at the elven noblewoman inquisitively. I am left wondering: how does this noble assembly warrant such utter hostility? Is there a reason behind it?

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

Clytemnestra nods her acknowledgement of the kind comments after her story, but seems to have used up all desire to speak for the moment.

She turns to watch each cluster of conversation in turn without trying to join in. She also can't help but glance back at the door that Emalia and Orbal had exited through a few minutes before.

[Erelamar]

Kirsch, Megamax, and Clytemnestra (with Lilet/Nadjiel, Upper Withdrawing Room)

Lady Lilet von Bleak laughs at Kirsch's query, and she is the first to answer, "My dear fellow, the case is very simple: Whom do you choose? The devil you know, or the devil you don't?" She glances to Lady Nadjiel for confirmation, which the elven noblewoman reluctantly nods to. At the magicians' perhaps confusion, Lady Lilet continues, "I mean, what is Emalia to do? She could dismiss the good Father, and his order would merely send a replacement.

"I dread the day old Sworle retires from Bleak House. He's been there nearly twice as long as I have!" Lady Lilet's wineglass is empty and she goes to stand but is less than steady and thinks better of it, instead motioning for one of the younger of the crowd if they would be so kind as to refill her glass. "To have to bring on a new steward, train them in your way—the ways of the household and property—by the gods, doesn't that sound terrible? No, however imperious, I'd advise Emalia to ride it out with Neomund. I mean, I dare say, he's been here for decades! I couldn't actually imagine the thought of having an elven steward, one that could see you through generations..."

Lady Nadjiel of Spyre listens to Lilet's explanation and continues nodding. She finally sips her wine, and only then corrects the human aristocrat, "Not merely decades: ninety-seven years. That is how long Father Neomund has been at Allsatalos."

Recognizing the curiosity on some faces, Nadjiel finishes her own wine in one unladylike gulp. She begins, tentatively, "I came to Allsatalos in my youth, many times. My uncle, Duke Spyre, would confer with the late Marquis about library matters. Allsatalos boasting one older than our own, though with much less fanfare.

"This was in the time of the Marquis' cousins you see, and they were great, fun elves, more so than I had ever known. And the Marquis was happy in their happiness. Of course, then the cousins had their tragedy upon the airship. Their only child, who would later be castle magician here—for a time—was... unfocused. Elves are by their nature a mercurial lot. The running of this important and sensitive place was not within his capabilities. These are not my conclusions and the Marquis would never have shared his thinking on such matters, but my uncle and mother told me they sensed it in him. And there were no extant family members left for the Marquis to trust.

"Seven months after the cousins' unfortunate demise, two of the Founding members of the Tolerance arrived with a young Neomund in tow. I understand they visited many ancient places in those early years, though for two of the Six to arrive, it displayed grave respect. They sat and spoke with the Marquis for many hours in private. What was said? No one but they could say. In the end, the Founders departed, and Father Neomund was installed as chaplain at Allsatalos, which was a position basically invented for his presence. The oldest elves worship no deities, or at least, what deities they might have once had no longer exist.

"Over time, the Father's duties evolved into maintaining the household. And once the Marquis' cousins' son finally went off to study magic at the Incrementon and the last of the servants' children had set out into the world, Allsatalos became a dead place; none were invited, none came or went. The Marquis remained here with but a skeleton staff, the guards, and Father Neomund. That lasted many decades, until the arrival of Lady Emalia."

Lively discussion echoes down the hallway to the second-floor landing of the Grand Staircase. Two indistinct voices, male and female, talk in a uniform chatter. They are responded to by only the sour grunts of the familiar baritone of Duke Orbal. The rest of this private afterparty is only seconds from arriving in the Upper Withdrawing Room.

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

Clytemnestra leaned forward, absorbing every word of Nadjiel's story as if through her pores, so intense was her concentration. She nodded only once, at the very end. As the story ended, Clytemnestra reached forward for a sip of her wine before her soft voice crept into the silence.

"Lady Nadjiel, I thank you for this. It answers many questions that have filled my head today. But I do have one more.

"Why would Neomund's order presume to have the right to install a steward at Allsatalos? Especially since that wasn't the position that he was sent here to fill. Is it not the case that most nobles hire and fire their own staff?"

She shifts, seeking a place of only moderate discomfort.

[Metastachydium]

And you have my profuse thanks as well, my Lady, for sharing these with us. Kirsch says with another small bow, while he shifts somewhat closer to the others. He should find the time to pester Neomund about his "priestly duties", but that's hardly an urgency. For now, she turns towards Clytemnestra with a knowing smile. As for the question, I am inclined to surmise that I can answer it myself. Whatever position the good Father might fill in this castle, that position is merely a means to an end, and being steward is a far better means than being chaplain and chaplain alone. he glances quickly towards the archway before continuing. It is no secret either that the Tolerance has marvelous power even over those whom one would deem the most powerful. What they will is usually done.

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

Clytemnestra thinks about Kirsch's proposed explanation, and turns to the noblewomen. She keeps everything out of her voice except curiosity.

"Ah! Is that true? Does the Tolerance control who you hire and fire? What other influence does this cult exert over you? And what is the way in which they enforce such extraordinary control?"

[Erelamar]

Kirsch, Megamax, and Clytemnestra (with Lilet/Nadjiel, Upper Withdrawing Room)

At Clytemnestra's final question, Lady Lilet bursts out laughing. "What a silly thought! No, of course not."

Lady Nadjiel, glancing at the growing noise from the hallway and the looming entrance of Emalia, starts across the huge room. Though, a shiny ring tapping upon a wineglass halts her long enough to reach back for a decanter of wine. She deposits the prismatic crystal in Lady Lilet's hand, as she walks much closer to the magicians.

The high elf's voice is much lower, "Forgive Lady Bleak her outburst, though she is correct in her statement. The Tolerance makes no staffing choices at Bleaksburg or Spyre, in fact, I doubt there is even one of their wandering priests currently in either region. Sure, in the past their 'inspectors' have appeared but they left just as quickly. You see, there is nothing in Spyre or Bleaksburg the Tolerance wants.

"No, no. The situation in Allsatalos is unique to this castle. At the very least, in this part of the world. The union between the late Marquis and the Tolerance is a special one."

The noise from the corridor is louder still. Everyone can hear Lady Emalia gently chuckle as she chides Duke Orbal for some snide remark at the other nobles voices' expense. Lady Lilet refills her glass, sips nearly half the golden liquid then tops it off again—apparently steeling herself for what's to come.

Turning back to the magicians, Lady Nadjiel speaks softer still, "Unlike other locations across the Eldwizand, the Tolerance could not merely take Allsatalos as they have done plenty of times elsewhere. The reason? Well, ninety-seven years ago they were not quite so well-equipped, or so numerous, or so influential as they are today. And, most importantly, they were wary of the late Marquis, as most who knew him were—a veteran of countless wars, a Grandmaster of the Thinblade with which he had weapon supremacy. A terrible foe, and to confront him in Allsatalos, his place of power? No, they had to strike a bargain with him. A compact which endures to this day; the most basic terms of which are not so hard to guess: 'There must always be a pious templar of the Tolerance guarding Allsatalos.' "

Yes, that was my not-so-subtle insert of both a feat name and a prestige class. The PCs are aware of the requirements and abilities of both.
Given the requirements for the feat above, it does give more credence to Hargen's story about the Marquis revenge-killing the cloud giants.

[Metastachydium]

The lizard's colours shift to a more greyish hue as he considers what has been told. Why, that only raises a number of further questions. he remarks, lowering his voice. Chief of which would be this: the late Marquis, blessed be his memory, is now gone, as is his heir apparent; what, then, keeps the Tolerance from altering the deal, so to say?

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

Clytemnestra shrugs.

"'Present' is a far cry from 'being in charge.' There is clearly much more at play in the relationship between Emalia and Neomund than meets the eye. Hah! Neomund and Emalia? Now THAT would be a song of ice and fire indeed."

[Metastachydium]

Kirsch raises his chin somewhat, curious, bluish streaks forming above his eyes. He's not quite sure what game Clytemnestra is playing with these increasingly absurd questions and remarks. Is this some highly idiosynchratic approach to gathering information or is it the wine talking already?
Either way, he keeps quiet for the moment, waiting for a reaction from the two noblewomen.

[Ripptor]

http://i.vgy.me/waS64S.png (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449194)

Meagan listens to the suddenly indiscreet discussion with interest, continuing to comport herself with the discretion so suddenly abandoned while still absorbing what is being shared. She nods along to the tale of the estate's history and standing treatise, letting the others reveal their missing knowledge while keeping a straight smile.

At Kirch's last question, and Clytemnestra's more absurd answer, Meagan finally proffers some insight of her own. "It's just politics, dear. The Tolerance has several long-standing agreements where their force would alone would not do. If they renege on this one, they risk them all." Sipping her own wine, she shrugs at the others, "The question then, at what cost will they risk everything for this singular estate? And why rush, with Emalia's impending human lifespan?"

None so shown here, this time around!

[Erelamar]

Kirsch, Megamax, and Clytemnestra (with Lilet/Nadjiel, Upper Withdrawing Room)

Lady Nadjiel was sipping her wine when Clytemnestra made her playful suggestion, causing the high elf noblewoman to briefly choke. Lady Lilet, in her unladylike fashion, merely snorts at the absurdity; though, her trademark grin never leaves. She says, "Oh, such graceful cheek, Clytemnestra. Perhaps, you're not so out of social practice as you had led us to believe..." Lilet gives the gray elf a wink.

At Megamax's words, Lady Nadjiel again looks to the colorful tiefling in a strange way. She is finally about to address the magician directly, "Greetings, Mea—"

"I have arrived!" rings out across the cavernous chamber. Lady Emalia stands beneath the rune-inscribed archway back toward the second floor's Grand Landing. Dark-clad Duke Orbal is by her side with a knowing smile. Behind both are a pair of aristocrats Kirsch, Clytemnestra, and Megamax recognize as being part of Lady Lilet's party when they encountered her at the top of the Grand Staircase: a bow-legged man with a woman on his arm who seems so airy she bordered on the insubstantial.

Lady Lilet manages to rise from her seat this time to greet the hostess. "My Lady," she says with uncharacteristically grave respect.

Emalia looks at her, then gazes at the magicians standing to the side with Nadjiel as she stalks up to Lady Lilet von Bleak. "You have helped yourself to the intimacies of my house, Lilet. Who are these that you should bring into my private space? Two Trollops and a Chameleon? It sounds like the title to a Calthrop Butterburrow play."

"I had thought—"

The Lady of Allsatalos comes very close to Lilet, "Oh, thinking again, are we? Is that it? And what were you thinking when I was entertaining the Countess? Just bide your time skulking in the background?" Emalia is ripe with indignation. "Where was my help, then?"

Patiently answered with, "You know very well—"

"Cowardly fawner!"

"OVERACTOR!" exclaims the younger noblewoman.

Lady Lilet and Emalia eye each other askance, then both break out into fond laughter. They hug and kiss cheeks. Still with an arm around her fellow aristocrat, Emalia says to the group, "All be seated; enjoy yourselves, please!" Though, over her shoulder, she casually issues the directive, "Orbal, pour us a drink." To which the Duke snaps into motion.

To save everyone some knowledge checks, Calthrop Butterburrow was a gnome playwright known for satirical/comedic plays from eighty years ago whose works are still popular to this day. Other than Emalia's reference to him here, the character has no further bearing on this adventure.
Lady Lilet is referring to what Clytemnestra said in this post. (https://forums.giantitp.com/showsinglepost.php?p=25095829&postcount=75)
Megamax believes, though not even being properly introduced yet to Lady Nadjiel of Spyre, somehow the noblewoman has guessed her identity. Furthermore, she has a growing suspicion—the hunch—the high elf is aware of her circumstances.

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

Clytemnestra smiles sadly as she watches Emalia's antics with Lilet. She made no effort to rise when Emalia and Orbal approached, knowing how much of an effort it would indeed be. After all these years, it was a little late to stand on ceremony now. Especially when she felt like the rest of the solidity of the ground beneath her was being eroded.

"Butterburrow indeed, My Lady! Say, weren't you in the original cast of that one?"

Clytemnestra asks the question innocently enough, but her lips quirk upward after a moment.

I realize that there's a complete timing mismatch to the insinuation - it's simply a dig at Emalia's age, made doubly ironic because Clytemnestra is roughly twice Emalia's age.

[Metastachydium]

A chameleon? I suppose I shall have to own up to that, my Lady. Kirsch says with a little, dry laugh, an intricate pattern of a hundred colours flaring up on his scaly hide before he reverts to his usual, uniform bright green. This little vaudevillian performance was very much in keeping with how he remembered Emalia, but he feels fairly certain that he didn't find her antics quite as irritating back in the days of his youth as he finds them now; but then, he might have tried harder to genuinely like her for Sinna's sake than he does in the hic et nunc.
Fortunately for him, merely thinking of Sinna puts an honestly affectionate smile on his face, even as he mulls what a pity it is that her time with the late Marquis failed to refine Lady Emalia in the slightest bit.

[Ripptor]

http://i.vgy.me/waS64S.png (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449194)

As Emalia bursts onto the scene in here usual demeanor, Meagan takes the interruption for the convenience it is. While Lady and Lilet go back and forth, Megamax leans towards Nadjiel. Speaking enough to be heard without combatting the vivacious display being made, "And Greetings to you as well, Lady Nadjiel of Spire. But please, my friends call me Megamax." Her insinuation on the word both inviting her not to make a fuss, as well as get closer with the magician.

As the noise fades into laughter and the other magicians respond to Emalia, Meagan straightens back up with a wide smiel of her own."Oh, is it my turn to play the trollop now? You've learned to share the spotlight?"

None so shown here, this time around!

[Erelamar]

Kirsch, Megamax, and Clytemnestra (with Emalia et al, Upper Withdrawing Room)

Lady Lilet von Bleak bubbles over at Clytemnestra's joke. Emalia bears a wry smile and casually shrugs acceptance. Though, to Megamax she does respond, "Ah, but of course, now that you have graduated from saucy minx." And to the rest, "Please, relax... or whatever."

For her part, Lady Emalia stretches out upon a long divan, Lilet resumes her seat, and the pair of nobles who arrived with the hostess share another couch, dapping the sweat from their foreheads from the lastest round of Emalia's theater. They bat back-and-forth a constantly evolving train of thought, "Sometimes this place makes me so nervous I think I might throw up." "I know. It's great fun." "Oh, yes. Anything to get out from the dull valley towns. We really should come more often..." "I can't get away from work." "You work too hard. I say, did we meet these three already?" "No, no, we met the other one... I don't seem to see him; what was his name...?" "I could have sworn we met these as well— Oh, look, here comes the duke with some wine." "Yes, mighty fine of you, old sport."

While the noble pair ramble, Lady Lilet has already brought up the Countess' hat to which Emalia rolls her eyes, concluding her critique with, "Can't imagine her ever leaving the borders of the Alliance, really."

"Oh, I can tell you she didn't. She must have ordered it by catalogue, and an old one to boot. Those were popular when I was last in Enharza, years ago. They have to be out of fashion by now," says Emalia, wordlessly accepting a snifter of brandy from Duke Orbal, who has a glass of his own. "You know, everyone thought I would retire there. Of all places! Everyone always imagined it as my kind of town—" The Duke emits a derisive snort. "What's that, Orbal? You don't believe so?"

The Duke chimes in, "I know little of such places. I merely judge them lacking on the merits of their headwear."

Lady Emalia smirks, "Of course you do. Though, that's hardly the reason. They are quite lively, and certainly full of spontaneous indiscretions, but the arrogance is so thick you think you're going to choke. No matter how famous, they would never allow a foreigner into their loftiest ranks."

Duke Orbal has carried a straight-backed, armless chair from along the wall to a place beside Lady Emalia's divan—the seat being the only one suitable for accomodating the bejeweled rapier he wears at his hip. "Lucky for the both of us no such proscriptions exist in the Alliance, even the Fraal. We are all the better for it." Seeing the nine people about the large room each armed with a beverage, Orbal raises his glass and his voice, "To our most excellent hostess, Emalia, and the wonders of her company."

Though the three PCs have not gotten their names, they have at least seen the pair of nobles before with Lilet's group when Kirsch, Megamax, and Clytemnestra ran into her on the second-floor landing of the Grand Staircase. At the time, they appeared quite tired from their road and pretty tipsy on brandied hot chocolate. Though, unlike the others in the party, this pair never made any complaint about Lilet holding them up while she talked to the magicians.

[Metastachydium]

Repulsive as it can be, this very recalcitrance has served Enharza well enough on occasion. Driving the Overkingdom off through sheer, arrogant decadence rather than the force of arms is no small feat, after all. Kirsch remarks almost parenthetically, mostly just to make his presence in the room palpable. He would really rather not deal with Emalia (what could Sinna see in her, really?), let alone Orbal, but the last thing he needs is to become unwelcome sooner than he'd like, so putting up with the two of them is likely his best bet for now. Besides, Meagan and Clytemnestra are way closer to the Lady than he ever was; should they be dishonest with him, they can always take advantage of that, especially unless he plays nice.
Subsequently, when he finds himself listening to the Duke's toast ringing through the room with an unwanted drink in his hand, he is quick to raise his glass as well, adding a sly Long may she reign! before taking a symbolic sip of his wine.

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

Clytemnestra lifts her half-empty glass, joining in the toast to Emalia, and murmurs a soft affirmation. She sips from her glass but holds it close, a clear indication that she does not wish to partake of Orbal's new bottle.

As the conversation wanders to headgear and the cliquishness of Enharzan nobility, Clytemnestra's eyes glaze over a bit. As had been so beautifully articulated by the ancient elven curmudgeon Mariax, Clytemnestra would never have been interested in joining any club that would have her as a member. So the idea of exerting any effort on such social climbing was still unfamiliar territory for her.

She glances over at Meaghan, hoping that the effervescent younger woman can pick up the conversational slack that Clytemnestra finds herself unable to take up.

[Ripptor]

http://i.vgy.me/waS64S.png (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449194)

At Emalia's saucy minx comment, Meagan closes her eyes, theatrically preening to one side and the other. Lifting her glass with an especial grin to Kirsh's nod at Emalia's reign, she joins in on the toast with teeth before downing her previously poured share. Setting her glass down, she picks up the discussion on nobility.

"Spoken truth. Far too many countries place such emphasis on blood, when the true measure of a human is in their own works and deeds." With a wink at Emalia, "And humanoids. Countless how often my own worth is measured in the contents of my veins, alone."

Rolling her head to look about the abundance of historical trappings in the room, her topic wanders off, "Though with a house as old as this, history almost hangs in the air, palpable."

Watching the others, mainly Emalia and Orbal,
Sense Motive/Hunch: 22

[Erelamar]

Kirsch, Megamax, and Clytemnestra (with Emalia et al, Upper Withdrawing Room)

"Well spoken!" says the noble pair on the couch in unison, obliviously taking Kirsch's sly remark in earnest; they clink their glasses before taking delicate sips.

Mirroring Clytemnestra, Lady Nadjiel of Spyre gives a gracious nod to her hostess and merely raises her glass before taking a silent sip.

"Hear, hear!" says Lady Lilet von Bleak. She throws a thumb over her shoulder back at Duke Orbal, "Good to have around for a sudden burst of praise. If nothing else." She locks eyes with Emalia. The bard and noblewoman share a grin (one so toothy, the other so knowing). Orbal's buoyant expression sours a bit but he seems otherwise unaffected—apparently having become accustomed to some degree of teasing.

At Megamax's words, Lady Nadjiel does chime in, "Though when there is magic in the blood, it does in fact have a tangible value." The two aristocrats on the couch seem perplexed, and the high elf noble further elaborates, "Lady Megamax is a magician. In fact, all of the new guests present here are magicians."

Lady Lilet seems the most surprised, looking toward the gray elf and tiefling (having already known about Kirsch). Duke Orbal sips his brandy, unphased, and Emalia studies Nadjiel while maintaining an unshakably pleasant facade.

"Oh, how grand!" the female noblewoman begins. "Can't imagine we didn't already know that," concludes her escort. "Well, how could we when we haven't presented ourselves. Should we stand?" "I can't imagine they'd begrudge we old folk some informality." "This here," and the female noblewoman lays a hand over that of her partner, "This fine gentleman is Mazlowe Carn." "And this striking creature is Isabelle of Corg." "You're too kind." "I mean every word. But, I say, what had you been asking earlier, Dearest?" "Oh, that's right—"

Finally interrupting their chatter, Lady Nadjiel continues unprompted, "Actually, it turns out Lady Emalia invited them personally. Or at least, I know of such from Lord Kirsch." Lady Nadjiel finishes with two words ripe with speculation, "How unusual..."

"Hmm. I had been distracted so, that I had forgotten to ask about those letters..." muses Duke Orbal.

Perhaps sensing an unpleasant undercurrent forming, Lady Lilet von Bleak brightens up and rather loudly asks, "Oh! Emalia, what do you have in store for us this time? Real magicians at Allsatalos, who better to outshine the Cirque du Sphinx!"

"Calm yourself, Lilet," says Lady Emalia in a flat tone. The hostess breaks eye contact with the high elf for only a second to throw a sideways glare at the Duke. "Yes, of course, I invited them. Among many others: acquaintances from long ago, from far away, or likewise out of contact with our current circles.

"I knew not many would come; it's a real slog to get to Allsatalos. Then again, it's nice to know who your real friends still are." Lady Emalia spares a glance for the three magicians. "I wanted a select few to enjoy this, my splendid home, while they still could. You see, this will be one of my last parties at Allsatalos, for I will be leaving it soon."

"Wh-what?" stammers the Duke. Lilet, Mazlowe, and Isabelle all nod in agreement, seeing some kind of logic in it, already. Lady Nadjiel, for her part, is uncharacteristically flushed.

Emalia continues, "Oh, its upkeep is far too taxing. Such funds would be much better reinvested in the Fraal—roadways, schools, and the like. Besides, it's too remote—even from the nearest valley town." The aging bard gently waves to Lady Lilet, who silently concurs. "It's already proven too difficult for me to get a handle on the affairs going on in my own lands. No. I think in Autumn, I'll take a tour of the Marquis' other properties in the Marches, and settle somewhere more modest, closer to the border with the neighboring Alliance domains.

"And as you said, Meagan, there's much history here. Too much..."

[Metastachydium]

Kirsch gives a polite smile and nod, but little attention to the strange duo; he does, in turn, tense up somewhat as Lady Nadjiel brings up the subject of the invitations. Emalia's reply lifts this unease quickly, although the magician is not entirely certain why she would have their backs with such nonchalance. Is she too proud to admit that she's been tricked? Or some scheme she has going?
The lady mentioning her intention to leave Allsatalos sweeps the lizard's mind clean of these considerations almost immediately. The March will, no doubt, have much to gain from being governed with such benevolent wisdom. he says slowly, his scales assuming a solemn, glossy hue of green. This is no empty flattery either: Kirsch is genuinely surprised to hear Emalia speak with such sobriety and finds it praiseworthy if suspicious: this could come from the Father's influence, after all – he theorized himself earlier this evening that she could hardly stand against the Tolerance if they choose to take action. But then, what shall become of the castle?

[Metastachydium]

Sense Motive on Emalia: [roll0] and
Nadjiel: [roll1]

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

Clytemnestra sets her glass down, focusing on every aspect not only of Emalia's announcement but especially of Orbal's reaction to it. Is he surprised? Pleased? Concerned? Smug, as he had been at the end of the interrogation?

She picks up on Kirsch's thread.

"Indeed. This castle has been in the hands of the grey elves for centuries, a centre of our culture. It would be a great loss to see it shuttered..."

Sense motive on Emalia: [roll0]
Sense motive on Orbal: [roll1]

[Ripptor]

http://i.vgy.me/waS64S.png (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449194)

Meagan can't stop herself from rolling her eyes at Nadjiel's comment on blood magic's value, as if that wasn't specifically the issue she was complaining about. Perhaps this one knows far less than she lets on.

Perking back up at Lady's announcement (and drwaing of teh conversation away from the magicians), Meagan adds after the others, "Emalia is certainly more the type to make history, rather than wallow in it."

Tilting her head to look around, she muses aloud. "As for the elves, Nessie's correct. I can't imagine Neomund leaving all this behind..."

Watching the others, mainly Nadjiel and Orbal,
Sense Motive/Hunch: 22

[Erelamar]

Kirsch, Megamax, and Clytemnestra (with Emalia et al, Upper Withdrawing Room)

"Oh, don't tell me you have to take that ghoulish white elf with you," says Lady Lilet von Bleak. "Could you imagine toting that ray of sunshine around?" Mazlowe and Isabelle laugh along with her, but Orbal and Nadjiel merely smile in acknowledgment.

Duke Orbal, for his part, has been keeping his gaze locked on Emalia, who doesn't seem to notice.

The hostess begins with a faint, high society chuckle, "No. Father Neomund will not be coming with me. Instead," and the aging bard is clearly aiming this remark directly at the magicians, "He will remain to manage Allsatalos with a small staff. Windows shuttered, cloth draped over all the furniture, paintings boxed and stored: there will be little left to clean or duties to schedule. Best of all: no visitors. I should think the good Father will be in heaven."

"It seems like such a shame," gravely muses Lady Nadjiel of Spyre, "for that to be the fate of this consequential place."

"Quite right, my Lady." "Just so," chime the noble couple upon the couch.

Lady Emalia smiles through it, though there is a definitiveness to her tone, "This is how the Marquis wanted it. And it will be so..." There's a slight tension in the air between the high elf and human bard; just as fast as it came, it evaporates under Emalia's cheery laugh, "He wouldn't let me grow old in a place so far from civilization! He always wanted me to share my experience and talents with his beautiful land and people."

"Older."

"Yes. Thank you, Lilet." And the two aristocrats share another playfully combative grin.

[Metastachydium]

Kirsch is fairly certain at this point that Lady Lilet will never cease to amaze him, or, at any rate, not until he is to spend time in her company. The question about Neomund was incredibly convenient and unlike himself, she could easily afford asking it. He nods along as Emalia presents her answer, bluish spots appearing and disappearing on his snout in erratic patterns. As could be expected… he murmurs.
He is also quick to join Mazlowe and Isabelle in reacting to Nadjiel's words. Indeed. Indeed. But at least we shall still have Spyre. he remarks with a resigned little smile. Small consolation as that might be – meaning no offense, of course.
Emalia's rebuttal of the elven lady, in turn, has a surprising effect on the lizard. He feels a slight relief, and his skin is quick to shift hue again, flaring up in a cheerful green. Neomund is no lord of the castle, as it seems. Not yet, anyway. The same shadow of the Marquis that will remove Emalia from the picture should be granting her a degree of immunity and a measure of authority right now. What a noble soul! The late Marquis was a marvelously considerate man. he says, bowing his head somewhat, before looking up again and adding And when are you due to relinquish fair Allsatalos, my Lady, if I may inquire?


Let's look into some more folks present!
Sense Motive on Orbal: [roll0] and
Lilet [roll1]

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

Possibilities tumbled through Clytemnestra's mind. While she was saddened that Emalia would prefer a lowly hovel of some sort to this magnificent edifice, but at the same time, she could understand why the austere majesty of Allsatallos was not for all tastes. And, in the pit of her stomach, she had to admit that Neomund was probably a more responsible steward of this great legacy than her lovely narcissist.

Well. Not her lovely anything.

Clytemnestra is deeply grateful for Kirsch's pattern and questions, allowing her to drift through the moment. She glances over at Orbal with a sad smile, and reaches down to lift her glass to him.

"Well. Perhaps congratulations are in order."

[Ripptor]

http://i.vgy.me/waS64S.png (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449194)

Megamax listens to the others as they each digest the news, raising her own glass when Emalia invokes the name of the late Marquis. "As the Marquis wishes. May we all have such say in our own legacies."

After a meaningful glance at Nadjiel, she drinks her cup and returns Duke Orbal's smile. He will certainly enjoy that particular arrangement of the future.

Ongoing!

Sense Motive/Hunch: 22

[Erelamar]

Kirsch, Megamax, and Clytemnestra (with Emalia et al, Upper Withdrawing Room)

"Cheeky," says Lady Lilet von Bleak to no one in particular, though it comes on the heels of Clytemnestra's toast.

Duke Orbal swallows and turns the gray elf's toast around, deflecting attention from himself, "Yes, congratulations indeed. To the wisdom of the late Marquis! We shall rarely see his like again."

"Hear, hear." "Just so," repeat the nobles on the couch. Nadjiel and Lilet are quick to follow suit, raising their crystal glasses then taking a sip—unable to deny a salute to the dead elf lord. Emalia is slower to do so but does sip her brandy after glancing back and forth between the Duke and Clytemnestra. Afterward, she settles her attention to the Kirsch,

"I believe in a month from now. At the very beginning of autumn." Her neutral friendliness never wavers; perhaps, a corner of her smile curls higher. "I'm afraid Father Neomund is really chomping at the bit. He's only just informed me this afternoon that inspectors from his order will be arriving Sunday—"

Mazlowe and Isabelle, mindlessly chattering between themselves, fall silent. Lady Lilet's trademark grin drops from her face. Lady Nadjiel's eyes widen. It is as if all air and sound fled from the cavernous withdrawing room. Only Duke Orbal seems unaffected; he even nonchalantly leans back in his chair and crosses his legs.

After only a second's pause, Lady Emalia continues, "To assess logistical matters and what materials the good Father requires to continue his duties sans master. I knew it was coming up, but I thought it might have been a little closer to my actual departure date. Needless to say, it won't spoil our fun. They are scheduled to arrive midday, and the guests will be well on their way home by then..."

It is late Friday night.

[Metastachydium]

The colour of the scales on Kirsch dampens, until it is more of a gray than a green hue and his right fist instinctively clenches, albeit very briefly. I am sorry to hear that you are soon to trade us for such a dismal company, my Lady. he breaks the silence at last, his voice soft and compassionate. These are dire news. Neomund is problem enough as it is, but reinforced by further agents of the Tolerance… That's nothing to look forward too. They shall have to buy some time, somehow, or act quickly. Very quickly. And to think that with the guests dismissed, you are to face them all on your own! I would certainly find that prospect disturbing.

[Ripptor]

http://i.vgy.me/waS64S.png (https://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=2449194)

As with Orbal, Megamax seems nonplussed at the news of the incoming visitors. "Yes, their inspection of this estate will surely ensure the long-lasting record of this significant place." Meagan echoes Lady Nadjiel's prior wording, as the Elven scholar takes in the full meaning of the coming events. "We must drink Allsatalos in this evening, on the last night of it's full glory before the shuttering process begins."

Looking to Lady Emalia in particular, Megamax smiles. "Is there anything in particular we should all see, one last time?"

Well, now everybody knows about the inspection team! :smallbiggrin:

I'm guessing we're looking at this to be a long night... And then an Airship ride our before the team arrives?

Now I can wonder with the rest of everyone if that ride might be more of a one-way ticket out of here for Lady and Orbal ... and us :smallamused:

Sense Motive/Hunch: 22

[Toliudar]

Clytemnestra

Clytemnestra's face had always been pale, so the draining of blood at Emalia's news did little to affect her outer appearance. Now not only was she on the brink of losing Emalia to that opportunistic Orbal, but if the Order is given free reign in these halls, any trace of the ancient magics would doubtless be rooted out and obliterated. In two days.

Megamax's question seemed like the perfect wrap-up to the day. Clytemnestra set down her wine glass, mentally bracing herself for the challenge of extricating her body from the soft, low chair with any degree of dignity.

[Erelamar]

Kirsch, Megamax, and Clytemnestra (with Emalia et al, Upper Withdrawing Room)

Isabelle of Corg claps her hands. "Oh, you must see the true Games Room! The billiards reset themselves; the darts reappear in your hand!" Mazlowe Carn adds, "Add there's always someone to play with seeing as those fairies are always around." "Oh, my, yes. And the Nympharium: a lily pad pool room on the very highest level of the castle, all crystal ceiling and beautiful scents. Clearly magic at work." "Clearly."

Getting caught up in her own enthusiasm, Isabelle continues, "Definitely must take a gander at the Grand Ballroom—such magnificence—and... oh, the Hall of Transportation! It's where they keep their magical carriages and the airship." "I'm fairly certain we will already be seeing both tomorrow, dearest." "Oh, yes, how silly of me."

Lady Lilet von Bleak, obviously bored, does chime in with, "The Tapestry Room in the East Wing has an impressive collection." The sentence includes the not-so-subtle boast the noblewoman has been granted access to the family's private spaces in Allsatalos.

Not to be outdone, Duke Orbal says, "Even long since out of use, the family workrooms are quite the sight still. Room after room of tables holding elven-craft tools and unfinished projects from across the centuries; some, though half-wrought, bear a striking beauty."

"The Marquis' line were all naturally gifted in the artisan crafts and took much joy in them: woodworking, sculpting, painting, the crafting of jewelry and arms (often at the same time)," adds Lady Emalia for clarification. After a sip of brandy and some thought, she does add, "The Effigy Hall is perhaps the most impressive chamber in the castle." All the other nobles, save one, in the Upper Withdrawing Room look at Emalia with curiosity—somehow unaware of the chamber she speaks of. "Not for its size or view, but for its contents." The corner of his neutral smile curls a little higher once more, but she has nothing further to add to the statement.

Lady Nadjiel of Spyre—the lone aristocrat who knew of the room their hostess mentioned—studies Emalia with some intensity as the aging bard speaks cryptically of this Effigy Hall. Then, much like Duke Orbal, as if not to be outdone, the high elf says, "Of course, being magicians, you must visit the Grand Library; that is, those parts which have not been sealed."

[Metastachydium]

Kirsch quickly overcomes the annoyance felt over his comments falling on deaf ears and he forces his scales to regain their usual, green countenance. Some of the answers given to Meagan were full of promise, after all. Why, the perils of a poorly guarded library ought not, indeed, be underestimated. he quips with a wry but curious smile, signalling to Nadjiel that she managed to pique his interest. But it would seem that fair Allsatalos holds mysteries deeper yet. he adds, his eyes flashing at Lady Nadjiel before settling on Emalia. Effigies, you say? Would that, perhaps, be another collection of art?


Totally using Sense Motive on Nadjiel's and Emalia's answer (verbal of otherwise), if any:
for Nadjiel: [roll0]
and Emalia: [roll1]