A Game of Tombs IC

[Nettlekid]

The air is alive with the sound of industry, wagon wheels running across cobblestones and the echo of vendors in the market district several blocks down calling out prices for their wares. This is the imperial city of Amaranth, and while its status is hotly contested by the nations to the east and west it is truthfully one of the great powers in Solthlune, if not the greatest. The heavens are friendly as a cloudless sky bears down warm sunlight on your shoulders. You four have been specifically requested to come here in consideration of your past record of success, and so now you stand outside the gates of the Magistrate's manor. Details of the request were sparse, likely out of concern that the message would be intercepted, but you each have been promised a handsome reward for no more than information surrounding mysterious goings-on, with the suggestion of something greater if you manage to put the land to peace.

Recognizing you as you arrive, the guards at the gates part and make way for you to enter the manor house, directing you to an antechamber where servants offer you refreshments as you wait for the assemblage of everyone who had affirmed their arrival. Until you speak to one another, there is a heaviness in the air while the silence is broken only by a large grandfather clock's rhythmic ticking.

[Hamste]

Pyrom passes on any drink that isn't water and sits there waiting. Hopefully, this job paid as well as it sounded like it did. He was hoping to open another orphanage soon and if he wanted the orphanage to last he needed enough money for the interest off investments to continue running indefinitely. It wouldn't do if all his work became undone from such a simple thing like death. While he waited he looked around for any artwork that would catch his eye. He had considered trying to do some of his exercises while he waited but decided not to as it might be seen as rude or a sign of impatience. If he doesn't find one he starts a conversation.

Hello, I'm Pyrom. Pyrom says drumming his fingers. He didn't deal with boredom well.

[riccaru]

As Gideon arrives to the manor he swings his sword from his back into his left hand and his helmet into his right. As the refreshments are passed around he takes them with a quiet thanks in return. He sit quietly as the group waits for the time they would be told their duty, tapping his foot to the rhythm of the grandfather clock.

"Gideon. I suppose you've got the same letter." He hands his copy over as he says it, hoping to compare notes and see if there's anything more to glean from them.

[BananaPhone]

Syl'Dan


Having arrived quietly from within a plain, tasteful carriage of House Radec, Syl'Dan had taken to the rear of the room with a glass of brandy in one hand and metal sphere in the other. With few others to converse, the demonologists attention had been drawn to a painting displayed upon the wall, its edges laced with the finery of crafted gold-leafed decoration and its content that of a pious looking fellow peering down upon all who came before him in silent judgment.

Pursing her lips, perking an eyebrow, Syl'Dan stared right back as she took another sip of brandy. She herself was no rabble from the street, as her stylish and tasteful clothing suggested one raised in genteel propriety. But even she felt an underlying challenge in the paintings silent judgment.

Looking over her shoulder as the other two spoke, Syl'Dan smirked as she commented, "It would be quite coincidental if he did not," before her green eyes found themselves drawn back to an unspoken staring contest with the portrait.

[OPG]

As she was escorted to where to wait by the staff, Galatea had to snatch the hem of her crisp, elaborate white robe up from the floor to make the way she was pointed to. The robe wasn't her first choice (nothing with a cassock that irritating was), but as her advisers and superiors refused to let her forget: she had an image to maintain. This was especially so around the Magistrate, irritable pedants as they were, from Galatea's previous experiences with them carrying Clarity into their presence somehow persuaded them to treat her as a menial grunt as opposed to the pious chosen of Mayaheine, whom she represented. Don't be mistaken, she's not one to shun ostentation, but her preferred peacocking has more to do with demonstrating her reach or her might and not merely her position.

Eager to avoid being on her feet and wearing this robe at the same time, Galatea made her way to a bench, stopping plucking a glass of wine from a courteously held-out tray. She removed her mitre and placed the holy crown beside her as she took a seat. While reaching inside her robe to fetch a paper she lifted the glass and sampled it. Once she had finished a frown crept over her face and she placed the glass by the mitre, choosing to look over the details of the expansion that she now held instead. Galatea never enjoyed the work she performed for the Magistrate, since she held no fondness for secular bureaucracy in general, but she wasn't fool enough to ignore that every time she worked for them her goals were much closer by the end.

[Nettlekid]

The servers look to one another, unsure as to the mood of the room with the collection of heroes being rather terse with one another. There was a pregnant pause, interrupted then by a soldier in high-quality and extremely lightly used light armor who emerges from the double doors at the other side of the atrium.
"Esteemed champions, your presence and patience are greatly appreciated. The Magistrate offers his apology for the wait, and he is now available to speak with you. This way, if you would be so kind."
The soldier lowers his head only slightly, and passes back through the doors to hold them for you.

The room the doors deposit you in aren't the Magistrate's large hall, but instead a smaller room with a long and wide table containing a stylized map of Solthlune laid out upon it. The Magistrate sits at the head of the table, a plump man with a face reddened by consumption and a life of excess, wearing a sturdy leather cloak with a fur trim. A sword, as well-used as the soldier's armor, is sheathed at his waist. To his left stands a gaunt man with thin spectacles and darting eyes, once a Bard who serves now as the Magistrate's advisor. Three men and two women sit scattered around the table, while several more guards in leather armor stand a respectful distance away.

The Magistrate nods as you file in, but does not stand.
"Thank you for coming, esteemed warriors. I hope your time here has been comfortable. Please speak if you hunger or thirst, I certainly intend to partake while we speak." As he says this he takes a flask from his chest pocket and allows himself a hearty swallow before continuing.
"Rest assured, you are called here not for frivolous matters this day. Please, sit and observe the map."
The Magistrate gestures to you. His advisor walks to the side of the table to reach what would be the east edge of the map, pointing to the various locations as he speaks. His voice is surprisingly deep for such a thin man.
"As you know, our fair nation of Amaranth has been a shining example of civility in the Empire's own image, despite pressure from the Elves of the east and the Dwaves of the west. Relations are...strained, but all parties have been content to trade openly both through our ports and using our outland cities as trade centers. It's an arrangement that benefits all parties but gives us the edge when it comes to taxation and regulation. Officials within Teurilain and Drunvuur have expressed displeasure with the skewed arrangement, but have yet to commit resources toward upsetting the balance.

That is, until now. Three of our trading centers near the borders of Eornal - Burrett, Vennington, and Hyll - have gone silent. It may have been more than a month ago, we have been waiting for messengers scheduled from those towns to arrive, who never have. We even employed the use of Animal Messenger spells, to no avail. It seems increasingly likely that the Elves have taken action against our colonies. If they can claim that we're withholding facilities from them, as it would appear to a third party if they receive no word from our Human colony, then they can justify breaking the already tenuous agreement we have. Their motive is unknown, perhaps they intend to reclaim the territory, but we cannot make a better estimation until we know the exact condition of the colonies which have gone silent."

"Well then," the Magistrate finally remarks, "there's the long and short of it, in any case. I would like to commission your services to investigate the silenced villages and determine the condition, paying attention to any implication of Elven involvement, while under no circumstances revealing our suspicions to authorities or officials in Eornal should it come to it. Do you understand what we're asking of you, champions?"

[Hamste]

Pyrom passes on the food continuing to have a glass of water, mostly for looks as he didn't actually drink the water. He certainly wasn't going to take something more valuable that he didn't need. He sits down to look at the map as the magistrate talks.

From the sounds of it, you are asking us to discretely investigate what is happening and if asked we say we are just adventuring around or something similar that is not working for you. Essentially, avoid doing anything that could reflect poorly on the nation while investigating a politically charged situation. Do we just have to report back to you or is there anything we should do if we find out that elves or something else is stopping the messengers? Pyrom says staring at the map. It didn't seem that captivating, maybe they should have made it one of those ones with bumps on it so they could see the hills and what not better. They were horrible to pack up but there were some absolutely beautiful ones out there. He had seen one once based off an illusion before that had tiny individual trees, animals and buildings right on it. If only all magic was as constructive as that.

[Nettlekid]

"You understand correctly," the advisor remarks. "As established and esteemed heroes, we are leaving the specifics of your engagement to you. We trust that you can act with tact and decorum. Of course, if as a result of your actions the situation devolves into conflict it would be politically disadvantageous to be connected with you, and so you will be unable to rely on us for aid. In effect, you would be on your own. But it's hardly dragon-slaying, heroes like you should be more than accustomed to such affairs and worse situations."

[BananaPhone]

Syl'Dan

The demonologist peered over the map before dragging her green eyes over the thin and baritone-voiced magistrate. A hint of skepticism lurked in her eyes but it quickly vanished before she spoke.

"This seems a little...mundane, to be requesting of us," she stated in a neutral tone, "wouldn't this normally be the job of scouts and royal investigators?"

[Nettlekid]

Spoiler: OoC

Show

The Magistrate is not thin, the advisor is the thin and baritone one and the one who's been doing most of the talking. I realize I worded it ambiguously.

"You are astute," the advisor nods, "but there is a twofold reason for your involvement. Firstly, there can be little overestimation of an unknown element which can silence three villages without raising a stir. The usual messengers and scouts are those who have not returned, and it would be unjustifiable to throw away lives when we don't know what we're sacrificing them to. Employing the best resources we have at first call is arguably uneconomical, but from a humanism perspective the superior option. You wouldn't die if an Umber Hulk leaps from the shadows, whereas a company of 'expendable' junior soldiers would.

The other reason, as I suggested earlier, is that if there is a political plot in play here then we cannot be the first to show suspicion and give the Elves reason to answer any perceived show of force with a military force of their own. Right now you will be under our employ, but this isn't evident to a third party. Plausible deniability, in other words. That on its own is worth your service to us."

[OPG]

Galatea joined the trend of politely refusing her host's refreshments, if only to distance herself from him in as many ways as possible. She wasn't too fond of where this was going, and she hoped her concerns weren't unique.

"Pardon, but you haven't completely assuaged my skepticism. Some of us," Galatea indicated the noblewoman who had just spoken as well as the holy symbol on her mitre, "represent more than just ourselves, and should Eornal really be as hostile as you fear they are this could blow back in ways unpleasant to us, even if your hands are believed to be completely clean. I would still be willing to lend aid to the colonists and discover more for you, but any steps you could take to mitigate any blowback on the church would not go amiss."

[Nettlekid]

"Should your standing have been with any other organization which offers a conflict of interests I would agree with your hesitance, but the Church of Pelor and all that is Good and glorious is hardly the type to turn down the requests of those in need," the advisor responds swiftly. "For a start, the silenced villagers are suffering an unknown plight. Had we not enlisted your aid, I do not doubt that the priests among your order would soon issue a similar request having learned of the need by word of mouth alone. Should they be suffering under some natural cause, be it unseasonable weather or an attack by aggressive monsters, your presence would be more than justified. Indeed, the very concern that this may be happening would suffice for explanation, regardless of the true situation. Should Eornal officials be...overseeing the area, shall we say, you can justify your presence without the church losing face nor affiliating yourself with us in Amaranth. And should said officials be running the villages like prisons, which would be perhaps the worst case scenario, then a champion of Good ought to be liberating the innocent from that Hextorian predicament.

In any case, I recognize that you have concerns about the church's standing, but truthfully I cannot begin to imagine how an issue stemming from economic advantage bleeds into the issue of religion, save perhaps for the silver routes from Resswald which you use to bless Holy Water. Naturally Eornal would be loathe to escalate this into a conflict between religions, as the church of Pelor is well-received in Eornal and they would not want to lose the healers, nor would they wish to risk the safety of parishioners of the church of Corellon Larethian who reside within Amaranth. No, I don't think you have anything to be concerned about."

The Magistrate nods his head enthusiastically in agreement.

[Hamste]

I'm in, as long as we still get an appropriate contract. If something goes wrong, I see why you would want deniability but I at least would either like prepayment or proof that we were hired so if we are successful there is no debate on payment.
Pyrom says.

[riccaru]

"Speaking of payment," Gideon says, leaning forward to the magistrate. "I can't help but notice that hasn't been discussed. Nor can I help the feeling that you don't intend us to come back for our rewards." He says, his eyes narrowing at the adviser. He'd seen ploys like this before, and had to shake down more than one happy customer who had neglected their end. Not to mention the shifty man behind the throne.

"So, Magistrate, why should I put my life on the line for your lands?" He asks as he sits back, his hand sitting knowingly on the hilt of his sword as his eyes focus on the adviser.

Spoiler: Intimidate

Show

Trying to intimidate the adviser to see where the true power lies(1d20+15)[31]

[Nettlekid]

The Magistrate turns to his advisor, brow furrowed. The advisor is looking at the group of you, lips pursed as though soured.
"I am not entirely sure what you expect me to say following an allegation such as that, Sir Talbot. For a start, I cannot imagine anything which I have said to you that would suggest we hope you not to be successful in your venture. Indeed, for you to fail to return would be disastrous to us, as we would be left without the information we seek. The entire purpose of your task is that others haven't returned, why would we wish the same of you? And Sir Juror, I am...surprised that you would so swiftly speak to matters of compensation. Your reputation which precedes you, that of a charitable soul...I suppose one should never meet their heroes after all."

The advisor pauses for a moment, then returns to the side of the Magistrate. He leans close and the two exchange words quietly. The Magistrate seems confused, the advisor seems stern. The other soldiers sitting around the table mutter to one another, clearly anxious by the sudden tension. The Magistrate and advisor break after a few minutes of hushed dialogue, and the advisor says something to one of the lesser guards, who promptly leaves the room.

"The nature of your reward," the advisor begins again, "would have been largely determined by your report. Naturally as we are ignorant of the threats you may face we are not in a position to offer anything definitive as we speak now. The bare minimum that had been agreed upon would have been five hundred gold pieces each should you return with a signal of all clear, of misunderstanding or pleasant news. Should you have had to exert yourselves, defeat enigmatic creatures or free prisoners, it would have been ten times that. Should the result of your mission have avoided a national conflict or war, either by proving the innocence of all involved parties or discovering leverage valuable to Amaranth and the Empire overseas, it would have been in the tens of thousands and coupled with the goodwill of the King himself. Goodwill which is beyond value in coin, issued by a force known for its peerless credibility." At this the advisor locks eyes with Gideon, in defiance of the latter's claims of treachery.
"For noble and trustworthy heroes, no less would suffice. It disappoints me, and that is to say the Magistrate as well, that we am not in the company of such. The Magistrate has decided that we had best look to other options to better serve our purpose, and I am in agreement with his judgment. You are dismissed, dear champions. For your trouble," he continues, gesturing to the lesser guard who had returned, who nervously circles the table and deposits a small drawstring pouch at the right hand of each adventurer, "You will each be compensated with twenty five silver pieces. It should cover a voyage by carriage coach for the better part of a hundred miles, and if you don't go so far then perhaps you may have a meal on it as well. I should think this a profitable venture for you, most trained laborers who do an honest day of work would not make such a sum in a week. For those of you with money on the mind you must be overjoyed, Sir Juror, Sir Talbot? Miss Anedeoi, you may consider it a tithing to the church of Pelor if such rests easily on your conscience."

The advisor cracks his fingers and neck as though he has been stiff from standing too long, and allows you to see that inside each pouch are indeed twenty five silver pieces.
"Very good, our business is hence adjourned. Captain, be so good as to show the adventurers out. The Magistrate and I shall be conferring on a second option to our situation."
The Captain, one of the soldiers in too-polished armor, nods hesitantly, and motions to you at the table. He is too nervous about speaking rudely to you to actually issue any sort of command.

[Hamste]

I think you misunderstood my intentions, though at least you are less accusatory than Gideon about it. My adventuring pays for several orphanages and schools, as well as the businesses to pay for them in the long term. It is important that I actually make money to pay for them as they, unsurprisingly; do not work off good intentions. I'm quite likely to request less or nothing depending on circumstances but insuring payment is important for the continuous creation of more institutions.

Either way, have a good day and hope that you find someone to do the job. Though, I have to ask. Why dismiss Galatea and Syl'Dan. I can see why I might have seemed greedy...though a contract is generally normal for all ventures and I can definitely see why you wouldn't want Gideon but Galatea only showed respect for her fellows and Syl'Dan has hardly spoken at all beyond making sure that this wasn't a small job.

Pyrom says before heading to the Captain taking the coins with him. He could feed a person for eight days with that. Pretty good for just having to walk in. He would probably have to go to check out the situation though, those people could be in trouble.

[OPG]

"Sire," Galatea held up a hand as her bag was offered to make room for one last case. "please do not dismiss this so hastily. This is a very important matter to you, and after you stated your case it's become important to myself. I understand how untoward my colleagues have been and I will understand your desire against hiring them, but I urge you to understand that it would be best if you did not end this here. You've made a very compelling case for Burrett, Vennington, and Hyll; so compelling, in fact, that I have plans to bring this matter to the attention of my swordswomen and my peers in the church of Pelor once I get the chance. If we're both to investigate this plight, cooperation would do nothing but resolve this matter even faster."

She paused to give Syl'Dan a brief, albeit meaningful glance. Don't you make this worse too, dear. "I'm not asking you to hire anyone you deem unworthy; all I'd like is to help you get to the bottom of this, for the good of Amaranth and her citizens."

Spoiler: I actually have no clue how to roll dice here, so let's see if this works

Show

(1d20+28)[30]
(Diplomacy, by the way)

[BananaPhone]

Syl'Dan


Like the shadowy creature she was, Syl'Dan had lurked in the background while the others chattered away and words became heated. Possessed of a dark sense of humor, Syl'Dan couldn't help but internally smirk over the passive-aggressive build up of words and the thickening of tensions as the magistrate sparred with her colleagues and all strutted about and fluffed their feathers.

Meanwhile, Syl'Dan had been staring at the map of their destination. Where normal folk might have seen the plains, the forests and the elven boarder that lay ominously on the horizon, Syl'Dan saw farmland, lumber mills and an excuse for armed town guards.

After allowing Galatea to try and calm the magistrate and for their back-and-forth to pass, Syl'Dan finally speaks.

"Beg pardon, Magistrate, were you to indulge me a further moment of your time," Syl'Dans smooth voice slithered in from behind, "but to what House do these lands belong, may I ask?" she proposed, as she gestured to the map with her signet-ring adorned right hand, "and what of their patriarch?"

[Nettlekid]

When Galatea begins to speak the advisor seems like he has no intention of giving you the time of day, but the earnest sound of her remarks gives him pause.
"As you can recognize," he says finally, after thinking, "this is a delicate situation that requires precise handling. Both for the sake of civilians who may be in danger and for the sake of the crown and the power structure. Act too hastily and Amaranth's respectability will be in jeopardy. Be too reserved, and the unknown may claim victims. So we need in our employ people who can act with stern decorum. Importantly," he looks again to Gideon, "we need people we can trust. Those who we are convinced wouldn't betray our cause should Eornal offer a greater prize for that 'loyalty'. It is only right that you be compensated for what we ask of you, but it doesn't engender confidence to think we're dealing with mercenaries for whom Human lives are measured against the weight of gold. I do not consider you to be such a person, Reverend Anedeoi, and I see I was hasty in making a judgment of your cause, Sir Juror. But I am not yet sold on the reliability of all in your company." He has not looked away from Gideon.

The Magistrate starts as Syl'Dan addresses him directly.
"Hmm? Hrmffm. The lands? Burrett, Vennington, and Hyll? Vennington and Hyll are in the territories of House Kinsley. The patriarch, Rothund Kinsley, resides within Vennington and has gone silent as we lost communication with the villages. Burrett's position as a hub of trade makes it a public property owned by the ruling force of Amaranth, namely myself. But we all report back to the King overseas."

[riccaru]

Gideon crosses his arms as he's offered the silver for their time.

"You know as well as any that my word is bond, and I only have a few conditions to be met before I agree, Magistrate." He says, still speaking to the supposed power of the room. He keeps his eyes steady and smiles with half his face, before continuing.

"If you want to be sure of my loyalty, you ca offer something the elves cant; A true title. Swing it with the king that I'm to become a lord and I'll show you exactly why you chose me first. The other conditions i half of the gold up front, 250 in addition to two horses for each of us for our travel and... Expenses" He continues flatly, his eyes looking quickly to the adviser, to see what he says first.

[BananaPhone]

Syl'Dan


Preferring to address the Magistrate instead advisor, Syl'Dan composed herself as the Magistrate explained the local authority within the region they were to be exploring.

That a lord was active was disappointing...Syl'Dan could see an opportunity if there were not one. However! That meant just a slight alteration.

"If I may, Lord Magistrate, but if the appearance of innocence is paramount, I could pose as a guest of Lord Kinsley, accompanied by my entourage," she gestured to the others present, "in the matter of a commercial enterprise on the frontiers of the empire, which would of course require a surveyor team and scrutiny of the local area. This could be the official reason for our presence, and for our inspection of the surrounding lands. Were the elves eyeing the region then their methods so far would suggest to me that they would prefer to avoid open confrontation. They would suspect that our attention is upon their schemes, but they wouldn't have any official reason to object. We could accomplish our goals and put them on the backfoot of caution?"

And then Gideon spoke.

While she had so far retained a passive composure, this time Syl'Dan's right eye twitched and her skin bristled at the mercenaries demands. Having already shown poor, if entertaining, propriety in his treatment of the advisor, he now demanded and expected elevation into the divinely chosen ranks of authority across the lands? Syl'dan clenched her jaw at such arrogance. Pedigree was history, prestige, pride and service, not a exclusionary club into which one could blackmail and bully their own admission.

Having had her back turned to the mercenary, Syl'dan was thankful that her less-than-impressed scowl could not be seen.

[Hamste]

Ok, let us go over this as I can't help but feel like I'm missing something. You accuse the magistrate of essentially sending us to our early grave. Then, when the magistrate rightly gets angered and almost kicks us out. Then we explain the misunderstanding that was happening with the exception of you who offers no explanation for your declaration. Then he expresses concern about your reliability and that we could be mercenaries who weigh human life to gold and your response is... to insure you are loyal they should pay you before hand and your payment should be in nobility. Do you really see nothing wrong with that? Why do you feel ok to demand more, when people could be suffering particularly after being so rude to our host?
Pyrom says looking slightly disgusted at the man. The guy was terrible, he was sadly not the greediest that Pyrom saw but that was horrible. His first response to people potentially suffering was to ask for as much as he could get. He even suggested that if elves could give him more of what he wanted, he would backstab them.

[OPG]

Following the sellsword's comments, Galatea changed her mind regarding the refreshments and decided to help herself to some of the brandy. She was usually more of a wine person (some persons unfavorable to her would call her a snob), bit sometimes you just had to make do with what you've got.

She held up a finger as she imbibed, "Sire, I'll have you know that two of those horses won't be necessary; I have my own transportation. Also if you ever feel the need to spring for expenses I'll be willing to save those negotiations until after I've held my end of the arrangement." They didn't have to worry about her settling in with any knife-ears, either.

Galatea sipped again, this time whispering a little louder than she meant to, "Also I know a handful of bright young knights whose credentials I can provide should you be so inclined. "

[Nettlekid]

The Magistrate and advisor take a few minutes to discuss again. The advisor then returns to face the group, hands on the table to support himself and letting out a long breath.
"Miss Syl'Dan, as stated earlier, the tactics you employ are your own decision. Although the Magistrate recommends not imposing connections with nobility under false pretenses, should the situation spiral out of control. Perhaps the Kinsley family has been taken hostage - in such a state, any ally or guest of theirs would be a liability and you would have a target painted on your back. If the Kinsley family has betrayed Amaranth to the Elves then they will still be in authority and recognize your deceit. The Magistrate does not outright condemn your strategy, but he recommends that you consider every eventuality of such a scheme."

"Yes, right," the Magistrate nods.

"On another note, Sir Juror, the Magistrate does ask that you pay heed to circumstances and hold your tongue if necessary. He is taken with the fervor with which you oppose Sir Talbot's position, but in speaking your honest mind aloud in the company of those you are having discussions with you weaken your own position. Imagine that we were not all friends here, and instead you are speaking to delegates of Eornal - were you to chastise your peers and in doing so make mention of our conversations here, it would put the delicate balance in jeopardy. But the Magistrate recognizes and is thankful for your earnest protest, and issues apology for insinuating anything to the contrary earlier.

With that said, Sir Juror, Miss Syl'Dan, and Reverand Anedeoi, if you are still of a mind for it then the Magistrate would like to re-extend the offer of his employment. Based on our conversations here he believes that you are indeed exactly the people we want investigating this event. Sir Talbot..." the advisor's eyes narrow, "No negotiations will be made to 'swing' you a title, nor will the King waste a moment of his time on your nonsense. Your dismissal holds; you may keep the silver.

If that is all the other three of you require, though, then you may all leave here together. We here will be waiting eagerly for news and updates of the situation in the border towns."

[riccaru]

Gideon stares intently at the map as the adviser speaks to him, seemingly ignoring the mans words even as he knows the answer he'll be getting. Gideon was not a man of words, to be sure, but his actions would speak volumes in the field. He lets out a short chuckle as his name is dragged further through the mud. As the final words are spoken he replaces his helmet and slings his sword back over his shoulder.

"Very well, magistrate. I have faith you will reconsider, should this matter come to blows." He says as he takes the silver from one of the guards and nods at the armored soldier. "Where can a man purchase the best horse in Amaranth, my good sir?" He asks the man, hoping that his deliberate dismissal of the adviser in favor of a lowly guard is a final wound to the mans pride.

[Hamste]

They didn't exactly insinuate so much as say he was greedy, though it was probably for the best not to clarify. While cocky thinking he was an option after that display at least he had the respect not to continues wasting the leaders time after being dismissed.

I will accept the job. Pyrom says.

[OPG]

Could that have gone worse? Galatea mulled through the possibilities as she exited the room. Her efforts were in vain, but she stopped that train of thought soon enough so she could focus on the future. As the party reached the exit of the manor she spoke up, ready to direct, "I will be ready to meet late tomorrow morning; by then all should be in order. I suggest we meet at the steps to the church of Mayaheine, but if anyone has objections or alternatives then now is the time to suggest them." She adjusted her sash and replaced her mitre, more than ready to leave the Magistrate and prepare.

[Nettlekid]

The guard that Gideon speaks to mentions something about a stable on the eastern edge of the town, but seems hesitant to speak with you and doesn't provide much more information than that.

If no one asks any other questions then you are dismissed by the Magistrate and directed at your own pace outside the manor, back onto the cobbles of Amaranth. It's a bright, clear day.

[Hamste]

Sounds like as good of a place as any to meet. Do either of you need help with final preparations? I'm not doing much so I'm free to help. Pyrom says stretching. He never really liked sitting down for long periods of time and there was a fair bit of sitting today.

He mentally went over if he had to do anything before leaving but there was not much for him to do by himself. His manager dealt with most of the charity stuff for him so he didnt need to deal with that, he could outrun or keep up with a horse on foot so he didn't need one of those and food wasn't a problem so it seemed like he was all set to leave. That was one of the best things about abstaining from personal effects for an aesthetic life style, it never took long to get ready for a trip.

[BananaPhone]

Syl'Dan


Having not said much else after the meeting, Syl'Dan stood upon the palatial front with an ornately silver-handled cane in one hand and a polished chrome sphere in the other.

As she was one of the last to leave, she would know if Gideon was deciding to join them or not - and whether conversation would be worth while.

If not, however, then Syl'Dan would offer a polite smile and a tip of her cane before taking the opportunity to stroll the clean streets beneath such a sunny, clear sky!