Pathfinder2e The Spurned hath no fury like alchemy

Logrith is not your run of the mill dwarf. He was always at odds with other dwarves because he preferred being above ground, wandering in the woods. He befriended a bear and they were quite an odd site....the huge bear towering over Logrith, following behind him as they explored the woods. Being somewhat of an outcast with the unlikely dream of settling somewhere else, he had heard about the tax collection job and decided to give it a go. He could use the money to fund his dreams and the adventure itself might prove stimulating, so he set off towards Taldor.

I'm ok with coming up with how we all met together. Maybe on the trail to Taldor or at a tavern in Taldor or perhaps the mission briefing itslef.

Only recently arrived in southern Taldor from the port of Merab in Thuvia, Marashepsut was stripped of her names and cast out by her clan for an offense against the sacred waters of the Nhmenthal Oasis.

Nameless and clanless she worked the trade routes of central Osirion for a time telling fortunes and spinning tales before being taken in by a merchant called Semkmet. Semkmet gifted her the name Marashepsut and his wild stories about his numerous journeys to exotic lands would instill within her a fascination for the wonders of the wider world.

On top of being a travelling merchant Semkmet was also a thief and a smuggler of antiquities as such he would also teach her about the dangers and treasures that lay hidden beneath the shifting sands of Osirion. In every encampment or town they visited Mara would set up her fortune telling tent and Semkmet would ply his legitimate trade by day and visit with grave robbers by night. He would bring the more unusual treasures to her and she would put her skills to work determining if there was anything "special" about the goods.

Semkmet had once been a clever trader but as the years passed and he grew older he began to make a series of poor and increasingly reckless decisions that put him at odds with the Pharaoh and his Risen Guard. Arrested for tomb robbing in Shiman-Sekh, Semkmet was sentenced to death his crimes, his property seized and his household was to be sold into slavery as a warning to anyone else who would dare plunder the sacred necropolis of Shiman-Sekh.

Marashepsut and two of Semkmet’s grandchildren managed to evade the Risen Guard and fled west into the dune sea, past the Sphinx Head and into Thuvia. Mara would spend several years at Lamasara telling fortunes and evaluating artifacts smuggled out of Osirion before returning to her homeland and setting up shop in Totra.

A decade later the Risen Guard would return, cracking down on anyone involved in the export of Osirion antiquities. Marashepsut fled by ship across the Inner Sea to first to Kortos and finally to Taldor.

Carth has a nose for trouble. He's always been that way, and at an early age found himself getting scolded by the dwarven chief of the Citadel Under the Mountain. As a probation, he agreed to study the discipline intensive warrior traditions of the dwarves.

His parents were ambassadors, trade negotiators really, and moved there with the family. Sudamon grew of an age among dwarves, taller and stronger than most. Enamored with the dwarves stoic views, certainty in the face of chaos, he studied the relies teachings of Torag, the great craft-dwarf. With the dedicated application to a craft and ideal, he became a Champion of Torag, almost unknown outside of the dwarves own ranks.

Today, he has taken to the Wandering, an orthodox tradition of servitude to the ideals of Torag. For a time, a decade or two if he were as long loved as a dwarf, he would spread the ideals of Torag through example.

He has an unlikely friendship with Logrith whose disdain for his own people rankles and intrigues Carth equally. He also knows that where Logrith goes, trouble will follow buy accident or design.

Their last adventure involved negotiating a dispute between mongrelfolk and the less nomadic townsfolk who resented their new neighbours. Yeah, it turned into a fight, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been. It wasn't a war and they left things with a solid agreement for peace.

The dusty skinned elf rubs a small bronze disk attached to her belt between two fingers thoughtfully, she did not trust this human, he smelt worse than most of them and was bloated like a corpse left in the midday sun. Her amethyst eyes looked first to her human companion, Sudamon and then to the dwarf, Logrith. Mara’s long blue black hair was mostly pulled back beneath her headdress but a few strands fell across her face. Neat ochre hieroglyphs were painted down her arms and across her exposed midriff.

"Your offer seems most generous Malek, my Lord," she corrected herself, *You are not in Osirion any more.* Her accented voice was light and airy. "Why, if I may be so bold, does my Lord require our assistance with this task? Why not send his own men to collect the taxes due?"

Carth watches the other two. They had agreed to here Deckard's proposal and it sounded easy enough, and yet difficult, too. Providing the taxes were given freely, which Carth doubted, there was still the master of protecting the taxes once we obtained them.

Mara's question indicated she was thinning along similar lines. He politely waits for the response before adding his own question.

His heavy partial plate armor, as much a negotiating tactic as a protective shell, was warm in the room. His thick moustaches twitch with unanswered questions. His holy symbol to the dwarven god Torag dangles from a steel chain on his neck. At his belt a large warhammer on one side and a wicked dwarven waraxe of impeccable craftsmanship. A long bow and a shield have been left on the horse, a tall proud white-specked grey stallion of a suspicious temperament.

Carth watches the others for a sign of their acquiescence but decides for himself. "I will sign, Laird Dekard, and see this task done."

He signs the scroll, and then asks, "Should we expect resistance from the communities in giving up the taxes, and if so, what authority do we wield to enforce collecting?"

Laird Dekard's explanation seemed plausible enough. Seeing Sudamon sign, Logrith confidently signed the scroll also, his jeweled war hammer clinking against his steel shield as he leaned over to take pen in hand.

Carth smiles, "Sometimes that bear is the best of us. Maybe not as much on tax collecting matters, but come dinner time, ..." he examines the two writs to familiar himself with what they say. In case anyone asks.

Mara waited for Sudamon and Logrith to sign, she owed the Dwarf a life debit and the Human was his friend. Thus, she supposed, she was both his friend by proxy and in a round about way in debit to him as well. Debits involving more than monies were terribly complicated things. Her finger and thumb continued to trace the a circular patterns on the small bronze disk attached to her waist.

She approached the table, did a kind of half bow half curtsy to Laird Dekard, uncertain which was more appropriate for her in this land and proceeded to sign the document in the long and flowing Osirion common script. Mara had briefly pondered signing in a hieroglyphics and cartouche but as she was neither nobility nor a god it seemed inappropriate.

Returning to Logrith and Sudamon, Mara straightened her skirts and long headdress and stood quietly behind them.

Logrith glares needles at Sudamon for his comment about the bear. Even though he knows it was said in jest, he cannot let it go unanswered.