Fhiess and Sagishi
Avrice's reptilian eyes flit over Fhiess and Sagishi as his scaled lips pull back to reveal a dagger-toothed grin. "My, aren't you full of unexpected surprises," he purrs, slipping his clawed hands into their opposite sleeves. "I'd never have guessed in an age that the two of you would be involved with our mutual associates. Takes all kinds, doesn't it?"
"Avrice," rumbles the man sitting at the head of the table in the pit, tendrils of smoke spilling out of his mouth as he speaks, as though his mouth is full of smoldering coals. He's dwarven, but positively hulking for his race, probably closer to the stature of an average human. His clothing is made of rich material while still managing to be understated. A platinum circlet sits atop a mane of hair as red as garnets. "When might we expect to receive payment for services rendered?"
Avrice turns back to his host. "I am authorized to remit payment as soon as the cargo reaches New Telmur and is passed into the custody of the Hegemony."
"Even with all that bedevils Telmur beyond our walls?"
Avrice bows his head slightly. "With all due respect, True King Leifford, the bedevilry you speak of is a singularly Aglean problem. Baglahm remains unaffected, I am told. The Hegemony is, shall we say, flexible in their preference with whom they conduct international affairs with, and we look forward to keeping our relationship in good standing with whomever rises to power when the matter is settled."
Leifford nods in agreement, inhaling deeply from a pipe before releasing another cloud from his mouth. The smoke smells vaguely of vanilla. "Marthor, please show our guest out." Peering around Marthor and the ambassador, he narrows his eyes at Fhiess and Sagishi "It seems I have unexpected business to attend to."
Marthor gives a quick nod, gesturing to Avrice to lead the way. In short order, Fhiess and Sagishi stand alone at the head of the short staircase leading into the sunken space, sitting at the head and flanked on either side by a collection of steely-eyed dwarves. For a long, uncomfortable moment, Leifford puffs on his pipe and stares at the pair. At last, he sets his pipe down in a carved wooden stand to keep it upright. "I don't know you," he announces. "But I'm feeling generous enough to allow you to explain how it is you came by a token of the Kin that would get you past the front door."
#
Thosar and Keranos
The circular hallway of the Chamber of Ossc is dominated by banners and flags that depict an almost propagandistic image of Forgerun, by turns portraying the society as a literal shining city on a hill (Which is more than a little confusing, given that the entirety of it lies beneath the eponymous mountains) and as the gallant heroes who overthrew the Hauntaur occupation and liberated the people. There's also a great deal of artwork showing elves and humans on their knees before dwaves and halflings with blazing halos around their heads.
The front desk is manned by--of all things--a svirfneblin. It's bald, with skin the color of granite and smallish eyes that glint like uncut gems in a mine. No secondary sex characteristics are immediately visible, and its craggy voice offers no clues as to its gender as it answers Keranos's inquiry without even looking up from its work. "Majority Leader Untermore's office is over there," it says, extending a spindly arm to point down the hallway. "Please take a number."
It looks like it's a busy day for the Majority Leader, as there are half a dozen people sitting on the seating against the wall outside the office's door.
Avrice's reptilian eyes flit over Fhiess and Sagishi as his scaled lips pull back to reveal a dagger-toothed grin. "My, aren't you full of unexpected surprises," he purrs, slipping his clawed hands into their opposite sleeves. "I'd never have guessed in an age that the two of you would be involved with our mutual associates. Takes all kinds, doesn't it?"
"Avrice," rumbles the man sitting at the head of the table in the pit, tendrils of smoke spilling out of his mouth as he speaks, as though his mouth is full of smoldering coals. He's dwarven, but positively hulking for his race, probably closer to the stature of an average human. His clothing is made of rich material while still managing to be understated. A platinum circlet sits atop a mane of hair as red as garnets. "When might we expect to receive payment for services rendered?"
Avrice turns back to his host. "I am authorized to remit payment as soon as the cargo reaches New Telmur and is passed into the custody of the Hegemony."
"Even with all that bedevils Telmur beyond our walls?"
Avrice bows his head slightly. "With all due respect, True King Leifford, the bedevilry you speak of is a singularly Aglean problem. Baglahm remains unaffected, I am told. The Hegemony is, shall we say, flexible in their preference with whom they conduct international affairs with, and we look forward to keeping our relationship in good standing with whomever rises to power when the matter is settled."
Leifford nods in agreement, inhaling deeply from a pipe before releasing another cloud from his mouth. The smoke smells vaguely of vanilla. "Marthor, please show our guest out." Peering around Marthor and the ambassador, he narrows his eyes at Fhiess and Sagishi "It seems I have unexpected business to attend to."
Marthor gives a quick nod, gesturing to Avrice to lead the way. In short order, Fhiess and Sagishi stand alone at the head of the short staircase leading into the sunken space, sitting at the head and flanked on either side by a collection of steely-eyed dwarves. For a long, uncomfortable moment, Leifford puffs on his pipe and stares at the pair. At last, he sets his pipe down in a carved wooden stand to keep it upright. "I don't know you," he announces. "But I'm feeling generous enough to allow you to explain how it is you came by a token of the Kin that would get you past the front door."
#
Thosar and Keranos
The circular hallway of the Chamber of Ossc is dominated by banners and flags that depict an almost propagandistic image of Forgerun, by turns portraying the society as a literal shining city on a hill (Which is more than a little confusing, given that the entirety of it lies beneath the eponymous mountains) and as the gallant heroes who overthrew the Hauntaur occupation and liberated the people. There's also a great deal of artwork showing elves and humans on their knees before dwaves and halflings with blazing halos around their heads.
The front desk is manned by--of all things--a svirfneblin. It's bald, with skin the color of granite and smallish eyes that glint like uncut gems in a mine. No secondary sex characteristics are immediately visible, and its craggy voice offers no clues as to its gender as it answers Keranos's inquiry without even looking up from its work. "Majority Leader Untermore's office is over there," it says, extending a spindly arm to point down the hallway. "Please take a number."
It looks like it's a busy day for the Majority Leader, as there are half a dozen people sitting on the seating against the wall outside the office's door.