No

"Mendax?" Helen calls to you from up the path.

"Lord Mendax," you call back, straightening your posture.

The four of you had traveled the moonlit, dirt road in relative silence for a time, broken by intermittent inquiries from each of the ladies. You dodged personal questions with artful deception and simply hyped up the reward at the end of your conquest. This sated their curiosity, and the skinny, pale rogue was only all too eager to scout ahead. She is the youngest of the three, this likely being only her eighteenth summer. And the moment Helen first slipped beyond the group's torchlight, she all but vanished. Gifted... very gifted.

Now the purple advent of dawn creeps through the forest canopy, and you can see Helen jogging back toward your party. She holds two fingers in front of her eyes before pointing off to the side of the road. In the dim light you barely make out the dark maw of a cave entrance.

"Well done, Helen. Your eyes are as keen as your blades," you give her a gregarious smile and she bows her head sheepishly, dropping her gaze. You stretch forth a hand toward the cave, "Let us investigate. This may well be the staging ground of our inevitable triumph!" A sweep of your arm, and the trio of bandits readied their weapons. You tighten your grip on the grimoire, eyes narrow and alert. Everything was going smoothly, but you know from your own exploits that those who grow content end up dead.

Beatrice chuckles and gives her greataxe a practice swing before charging ahead. You smirk at her fervor. Perhaps these ladies would prove more zealous than you initially expected. Good. Mother Grevakhnu values enthusiasm. After a brief tromp through the underbrush, the rest of you arrive. Purple already passes to orange, and in the growing light of morning you realize this was no mere cave; it was once a mine. You yourself never worked in such a menial, laborious profession, but these women came from rougher stuff.

"Tell me... what do you ladies know about mines?" you state in as commanding a tone as possible. Best to avoid appearing ignorant in front of the new recruits. Without a word, Rosaria taps her chin and walks up for a closer look. After a moment of inspecting the door she gives three light knocks on each cardinal direction around the door handle. You hear a metallic clunk, and the weathered door creaks open an inch.

"Impressive, but how did you know to do that?" you lose your lordly airs for a moment, but quickly regain your composure. Rosaria pouts her full lips, cracks her knuckles, and juts out her wide hip.

"Let's just say I can be very convincing, and I know how to pick my marks," the voluptupus bandit blows a lock of raven hair from her face, "Mining moguls can be ever so lonely."

You knew you picked a good team. A scout, a meat shield, and a brilliant charlatan. Perhaps Rosaria had leadership potential. Any good cult of Grevakhnu needed females among the inner circle, this one is brimming with charisma.

Nonetheless, a decision lays before you. This mine could make for an excellent base of operations, but you still had a full day's travel to the farmlands. Filistria gave you no time limit on founding a cult, but the sooner you gather followers and breeders, the sooner you can begin spreading your influence.