Wyvurn returns in much better spirits having eaten. Seeing the situation, he rolls his eyes.
"Caspian, give our merchant friends some coin so they may enjoy themselves. Jaegr, I overheard that little exchange, I would be honored to be your second. While I do not want to draw any more attention as necessary, perhaps demonstrating we will not be pushed around by boisterous fops may prover to our advantage."
"I would be honored to have you as my second."
Did we learn whose house the Key Symbol represents?"
Other stuff you've seen so far, from previous posts:
Gate guards, "wearing heavy armor decorated with brass wire in vertical patterns. Their cloaks have black-and-gold vertical stripes."
"As you walk, you pass a lady with a brass birdcage on her head, which is quite unusual even by elven standards."
"Coming up the other side of the street, you see a young rake, wearing a pair of swords, walking in a swagger; his tunic bears a very prominent logo in the pattern of a stylized key."
And your fop guy: "he's wearing an elaborate white outfit worked with thread-of-gold patterns in a stylized key motif."
So, a fair number of people in the city are wearing either a brass cage symbol or a key symbol, but never both.
Another point -- the birdcage people have so far been careful, or at least non-aggressive. The key people, on the other hand, seem to have no reservations at all about a fight.
Lets find a place to lodge, I need my sleep for my duel tomorrow.
Jaegr will need to involve Caspian on finding out who the key and birdcage people are. If we need to get on one of their good sides it would be good to know before he brains one of them!
LOL! Caspian wanders off into some side streets, Cricket in tow, the two of them seemingly unconcerned at their ability to find the rest of the party later -- Caspian assumes they can leave word at Bessie's Baldric, if worse comes to worst. You pass a lot of interesting sights, most of which Cricket is over-eager to investigate: a store that sells potions of hallucination; a duel between a hill dwarf mercenary and a human soldier; a pair of giraffes copulating under the direction of a husbandman; a group of grimy wood elf preschoolers who join hands in a dirty alleyway and conjure a dust devil for their amusement. Eventually you find a jazz duet playing at a backstreet cafe; the mandolin player is a tall elven woman, blissed out of her mind on some form of drug (possibly one of those hallucinatory potions); the drummer is a wiry, dark-skinned, cunning-looking individual who appears to be half-elf and half-halfling.
The blissed-out elf chick is still communing with the outer spheres or something, but the drummer segues into a quick solo, then returns to the main beat with the announcement, "That was called the Kobold Shuffle," followed by a quick rim shot.
In any event, the drummer's antics calm down the losers long enough for Caspian and Cricket to get a table -- near the stage, as the place is almost empty. The obnoxious kobold-hater keeps looking over at Cricket to make sure he doesn't start eating the table or something.
"Hey as a fellow musician wha do I need tah know bout this place tah stay out o troubles?"
The drummer looks at you and says, "Don't knock up no human girls!" -- flashing a self-deprecating smile. "No, seriously, man, just make sure the tavernkeeper gives you the right split, and puts aside the cut for the City. Sometimes they blame you if they don't."
The elven lady stares vaguely into space and says "The locks and keys are all mixed up."
Caspian isn't quite sure when it happens, that gradually the stuffier patrons get up and leave, swearing to call the City Watch, whereas the more laid-back patrons order more (and stronger) drinks and start singing along with the babbling goblin! By the time an hour goes by, the lutist and drummer are playing another set pro bono, with Caspian following on the bagpipes and Cricket singing off-key; patrons start dancing, moving tables aside to make room, and some get a little carried away during the slow dances and might find themselves with unexpected consequences in another nine months -- although you've heard that elves are notoriously infertile, so maybe it won't be an issue. In any event, it's a sight you would never see back in Aramni, where alcohol is illegal and people are prude to the point of absurdity.
Cricket of course has no idea that all this is happening; he's too busy trying to remember what he's doing, as before long he forgets how all the songs go and just starts babbling incoherently in a bastard mix of Goblin and Wood Elf. By the time dawn rolls around, he's writhing on the floor, clothes discarded, in a pool of his own urine.
By the time the City Watch actually shows up, the party is over and almost everyone involved has either left or passed out.
