You’re led into a small chamber inside the gate’s left tower. To the right a spiral staircase leads to an upper level. The room is small, barely big enough for the five of you. The thin man in leather gathers up some papers from a desk, before Rofmore takes a seat behind it. The thin man then dashes up the stairs. The knight in purple enters, last, sword still drawn. She removes her great helm, revealing her to be a beautiful woman with blonde hair and green eyes. She tosses hangs the helm up onto a hook on the wall. The sword remains in her hand.
“Forgive Cassa. She’s… distrustful, by nature,” Rofmore says, removing his gauntlets, and folding his hands on top of the desk. If there are refreshments to be had, they are not immediately visible. “Now,” he continues, “if either of you have been to Gren Noval before, and if you have, it was not through this gate, as I recognize neither of you, then you will have noticed that security is a bit tighter than normal. We have orders to detain a very specific group of individuals.” He pauses for a moment, gauging your reactions. “After thoroughly inspecting your little… entourage, we have determine that you are not harboring these individuals. However, you make Cassa… uneasy. And that makes me uneasy. So before I will allow you access to the city, I will know you’re true intentions here, in very specific details. Who you plan to meet with, where you intend to stay, and anything else that Cassa or I may find… enlightening.”
He leans in closer, across the desk. “And Sofia, is it? Who might you be, in relation to Lord Bahb, here? How long have you been with him? And what exactly do you do for him? I would know this, too.”
He leans back again, though his hands do not leave the desk. “Now, please. Enlighten me.” He says with a cold smile, and an even colder stare.
“So, I was promised refreshments,” Aelric says. “A glass of wine would not be amiss while, my charming companion answers your questions.” He gestures vaugely and looks expectantly at ‘Sophia’.
“First,” Dahlia says, "let me just say, Miss Cassa, I simply adore what you’ve done with your hair. The fact that you can keep it looking so vibrant after it’s been under that helm all day… it’s stunning. The questions, of course! I’m sorry, my dear, you’re simply a wonder to behold.
Now, Mr Rofmore. Your intrepid indulgence of inquiries is quite admirable. I don’t think I’ve ever been subject to this level of scrutiny upon entering a city before. While I wish you the best of luck in catching whatever vagabonds and murderers you seek, I must tell you in advance that there are certain private matters I cannot reveal to you in their entirety.
Myself, I am Lord Bahb’s Supreme Chancellor and Chief Arbiter. What this means, of course, is that I handle social and legal matters which are not worthy of my Lord’s attention. I have known him for quite some time, since before his rise to power, in fact. In truth we are here not only to see your city, but that Lord Bahb might meet with a powerful magician, here, in this city of arcane wonder. There is a specific issue upon which my Lord wishes an elder wizard to deliberate. Unfortunately I cannot elaborate further, as the content of the meeting will be held in confidence between the two parties, and would likely be incomprehensible to those of us unwise in the ways of magic. However, I can assure you that the meeting will be amicable and without coercion or malice. As to our locale we will likely appropriate one of the finer inns to serve my Lord’s entourage. Do you have any recommendations? We enjoy fine coastal cuisine, but would sacrifice this for a modicum of cleanliness, should that be necessary. Are there any near the center of town with clean beds and a good seafood menu?"
Lady Dahlia’s tale seem plausible, but Rofmore is unconvinced. “I can recommend a fantastic inn, called the Bronze Ladle. The food is good, and it attracts some great entertainers. It’s conveniently located in the western quarter of the city Drek. Also, telling me you plan to conspire with a powerful wizard does not exactly put me at ease as to your stay here. Lord Bahb, do you speak for yourself for matters unrelated to wine? Or is ‘Supreme Chancelor Sofia’ in charge here?”
“You will find, Rofmore, that when I have something to say, you will not have to ask me to say it,” Aelric answers. “Sofia speaks for me in sensitive situations where my… emotions… may get the better of me; situations, such as being questioned under the pretense of being offered refreshments…”
Lady Dahlia stiffens and takes a half-step forward. "As I said, I handle matters, and people, beneath the notice of my Lord Bahb. As far as our professional dealings, we are not in the business of “conspiring,” only conversing. I made the assumption that a city swarming with wizards would afford them the ability to speak. If my assumption was incorrect, I apologize, and my Lord’s professional interest in this city will have to be fulfilled elsewhere. The only remaining interest is mine, as I would be very curious to find out how a city of this size manages commerce without speech. Or, perhaps, how the city guard manages to monitor every single conversation held inside these walls.
My Lord has done you a service revealing his intentions, they are simply to talk, to discuss, converse, debate. We mean no harm to you or the inhabitants of this city. If this is permissable, let us cease these deliberations. If not, then well met, sir, and we will be sure to spread word regarding Gren Noval and it’s peculiar views on hospitality."
Rofmore stares hard at the two of you for a moment, before sighing and sitting back in his chair. “Open the gates” he shouts, and Cassa opens the door to the tower. As you exit, her glare never leaves Rofmore, and once you’re through the door, she slams it shut.