Braddon hurries down the dark road which runs along the river, leaving the hubbub and light of Free-Coin behind him. His mind is ahead of him, already at the bar in the crowded common room of the Publican House. As he jogs southward, the tavern comes into view, bright and cheerful in the otherwise dark and abandoned district.
Going around to the waterfront entrance, he ducks in the front door and performs a quick reconnoiter. The stool where he last saw Lexy is concealed within a knot of tavern patrons, all gathered around that end of the bar.
Studying the elf a moment through narrowed eyes, they soon relax and he takes a deep breath. "I think she got you good, bub. She's put a curse on you. You're gonna have to find someone who can remove it or it's never gonna go away. You might want to see if Samaritha can help you."
"No!" Saul responds immediately, in no uncertain terms. "The less contact we have with Shorafa, the better. Trying to reason with her is like trying to reason with an owlbear. Play dead, and hopefully she'll get bored and go find someone else's life to toy with. Our best bet is to avoid her altogether."
He sighs. "Aye, fine, I'll send the redhead down to check up on him. Lucky for him she's still here. Starting tomorrow, Mr. Deverin will be our only resident wizard."
"Oh? Hm.", Gristav replies. "I'll be in my room, then." Gristav makes to leave the office, wondering if Saul had as accurate a measure of Shorafa, as of Gris himself. Stopping at the door, Gristav regards the maimed master of the manse with a melancholic measuring mien. "You ought to talk more, with your people. Meals at table, news of the day, that sort of thing." Changing topic, Gristav asks, "Will you be coming, to question Dayn? That's the plan?"
Braddon pauses another second to take in his surrounds and catch his breath. He glances about the bar to locate Arnando or Eulalie, giving them a polite nod before casually making his way towards the throng.
"Everything all right?" he remarks pleasantly trying to conceal his concern.
Playing along with the part he has been offered, Phillip remains at part disinterested and gives the barman a rising of the chin by way of belligerent acknowledgement. He waits until the man's back is turned before leaning conspiratorially to Ethel "Do you need your mind taken off me again tonight? Or is there still hope for this cap?" an undercurrent of humility and question streaking the playfulness of the banter.
"You ought to talk more, with your people. Meals at table, news of the day, that sort of thing."
"I do try," Saul points out, aggrieved. "Every morning at breakfast, every evening at supper. Not my fault if people sneak off on their own agendas and leave notes."
"Will you be coming, to question Dayn? That's the plan?"
"Yes, yes," he says impatiently. "Wouldn't miss it, in point of fact. Shorafa's nothing if not a showman." He speaks with rueful admiration.
"You ought to talk more, with your people. Meals at table, news of the day, that sort of thing.""I do try," Saul points out, aggrieved. "Every morning at breakfast, every evening at supper. Not my fault if people sneak off on their own agendas and leave notes."
"This was at breakfast...", Gristav pauses, and chuckles. "I was about to fault you for inattentiveness, but I don't actually remember if you were there, so...", Gris gives a very Varisi shrug, and a sort of sheepish grin, and continues, "I was commenting on how great a day it was, for magic, more power by half, than I've been used to, and insights, so clear and strong, I woke before dawn to scribble- well, no, to carefully inscribe- them into my magister. I credit the sharing of it with Samaritha; the questions I'd never asked, the second set of eyes." Remembering those bright, intelligent, evergreen eyes, Gristav fell silent, an entire brace of quickening heartbeats.
"In any case, I'm our third wizard, unless it's like an orchestra, and then I'm first staff, surely...", Gris' staff orbited a single hand, humming through the air, as nimbly as one of Phillip's coins. "With Sam, of course, first among the dis-staff.", Gris jested seriously.
"Will you be coming, to question Dayn? That's the plan?""Yes, yes," he says impatiently. "Wouldn't miss it, in point of fact. Shorafa's nothing if not a showman." He speaks with rueful admiration.
The image of an rabid owlbear in a wicker hat, twirling a cane baton, buoyed Gristav out the door, while the problem of fitting the creature into a Calistrian curved corset brought a gravity to his countenance suitable for going down stairs.
Braddon is greeted by Arnando from behind the bar with an amused smirk.
"Everything all right?"
The crowd proves to be a group of sailors and other young men, all gathered around Lexy on her stool. Several mugs and wineglasses, many of them still full, are arrayed before her on the bar, offerings from her admirers.
She catches sight of him, a half a head taller than most of the wall of suitors. "Braddon! Is that you?"
Looking at the young elf with a raised eyebrow, "You mean to tell me, because you screwed up we now have to go to her and accept whatever 'conditions' she can come up with just to get her to change you back?" he asks rhetorically. "You gotta be kiddin' me. This sounds more like a personal problem, bub. Unless there's something more to this you ain't telling me, why should I make this my problem? It's not like she made it to where you've got twenty-four hours to live... you're just young. Some folks would kill to be a kid again. Not me but some."
"This is Phillip, by the way." She emphasizes the introduction slightly and gives Phil a lingering sidelong glance before looking back at the barkeep.
"Oh, aye?" Vern asks, paying Phil some attention for the first time as he gives the halfing an appraising glance.
Playing along with the part he has been offered, Phillip remains at part disinterested and gives the barman a rising of the chin by way of belligerent acknowledgement. He waits until the man's back is turned before leaning conspiratorially to Ethel "Do you need your mind taken off me again tonight? Or is there still hope for this cap?" an undercurrent of humility and question streaking the playfulness of the banter.
She leans in, offering him a wry smile. "Oh, there's hope. But I need a drink stronger than apple wine. And then we can spend some time telling ourselves how sorry that doorman is going to be someday for insulting us."
"Braddon! Is that you?"
Braddon beams, unable to contain his relief.
"I said I wouldn't be long."He pushes his way forward to her side.
"How can I make it up to you?"
With a wink he smiles with tired eyes, then sighs and swirls his mostly full cup of port "Perhaps..." caught in his thoughts for a few moments before partially changing the subject "Though I suppose I should be more attentive... if indeed I am attempting to win you back after my indiscretion." allowing his impish nature to return to partial ascendency.
Gristav departs the owner's suite, giving a nod to the dining room as he goes past, and descends the staircase with visions of incongruously-attired owlbears dancing in his head. As he approaches the door to his room, he hears the high-pitched tone of a childish voice raised in anger. He opens the door, and Daynadrian quiets suddenly, startled, then motions to him impatiently to close the door.
Closing the door behind him, Gristav looks from each to the other and back, says to Dayn, "You were audible down the hall.", then asks, "Was the stress I heard explainable in a lower tone? Would you rather wait for Sam? She is coming, though she won't know why, and she'll be followed by Saul, and I presume, Bojasc. I don't think I have enough chairs.", Gris says in dry humor, beginning to make whatever adjustments his furnishings offer, toward more standing room.
"It's temporary, you know? Because if she could offer lasting youth, there would be a fame attached to it.", Gris said, folding a fur into a mat that could be sat upon.
"To the corner with all this...", He says of the bindled bundle of salvaged swag, tucking it together and away as neatly as haste allowed, as carefully as caution commanded.
The slightest of smiles manages to cross Snake's face at the outburst of the angry "child". "Okay, that's actually kind of funny coming from you... with you being like twelve and all."
As Gristav makes his way in, the meager smile instantly vanishes. "No it's not, bub. He's been cursed and he'll stay this way for the rest of his days unless he can get someone to remove it," he states plainly.
The slightest of smiles manages to cross Snake's face at the outburst of the angry "child". "Okay, that's actually kind of funny coming from you... with you being like twelve and all."
"More like ... sixty-five maybe," Daynadrian judges.
"It's temporary, you know? Because if she could offer lasting youth, there would be a fame attached to it.", Gris said, folding a fur into a mat that could be sat upon.
"Not you, too," the child snaps. "Look at this. Do you think anyone would want this? This isn't eternal youth; it's eternal immaturity. Gods, my voice hasn't even changed yet. I probably can't even buy an ale."
"Perhaps that's the lesson. Or you may age yet, or find the point of the curse. Curses have unusual power, it's true. But what does folklore teach, about curses, in the breath after it teaches of their power? Their purpose. Curses teach, curses control. Curses require. They begin with 'Until', or 'While', or other conditions. And the condition, met, ravels the curse. Love's first kiss, ravens leaving the tower, guessing the imp's ridiculous name... What words, Dayn? What, exactly, did Shorafa say?"
With a wink he smiles with tired eyes, then sighs and swirls his mostly full cup of port "Perhaps..." caught in his thoughts for a few moments before partially changing the subject "Though I suppose I should be more attentive... if indeed I am attempting to win you back after my indiscretion." allowing his impish nature to return to partial ascendency.
"Hmm, that's true," Ethel replies in a mischievous purr, "throwing around coin with abandon to impress me, not sulking like you wish you were out with Maddy instead. It's bad for my reputation if you don't at least look like you're having a good time." She takes a sip from her colorful but potent concoction.
Braddon shoves his way back to Lexy's side, inciting grumbling protests from the men he's displacing. She grins up at him. "You could take me to Free-Coin like you promised. Only I don't guess I should leave until I've finished all these drinks people have bought me." She seems at least slightly tipsy already.
Looking to Gristav as he speaks, Snake simply stares to the point of where he could almost be mistaken for a statue before suddenly, "Riiiight," he responds, shaking his head before turning to Dayn. "Anyway, I guess I'll help you out, kid. Unless you'd rather wait for 'love's first kiss' or some of that other drivel being spewed to take care of it for you," he says in a sarcastic, joking manner, although it's difficult to tell. "You know, maybe Gristav's right, maybe this curse will teach you something. Who in the hells knows WHAT that might be - outside of Gristav of course - but at least it'll teach you something," he says with obvious sarcasm this time. He then glances at each in turn a couple of times before finishing with, "It's still kinda funny."
A small smile and half nod before Phillip sees his visage shift into something slightly more pleasant and he shuffles nearer and closer to his paramour. He then places a single gold coin upon the bar, setting it to spinning upon a side before calling back the barman "Vern... what does the Hoard have to offer a halfling with coin in hand and a lady to impress?"
"You could take me to Free-Coin like you promised. Only I don't guess I should leave until I've finished all these drinks people have bought me."
"As you desire." Braddon wraps an arm around her.
"Are you going to make it to Free-Coin if you finish all those drinks?"
Braddon pushes a coin onto the bar and calls for another dark ale.
"Either way, I should try and catch up." Braddon's eyes twinkle with mischief.
"What words, Dayn? What, exactly, did Shorafa say?"
"She told me to tell you to go to her and hear her conditions for removing the curse. Just Saul's men, she said; not Saul. She doesn't want to deal with him."
At that moment, there is a knock at Gristav's door. "Gristav?" Samaritha's voice calls. "Mr. Vankaskerkin wants to see you."
"Are you going to make it to Free-Coin if you finish all those drinks?"
Looking at the imbibables arrayed before her, "Probably not," she giggles. "Do you want to share?"
A small smile and half nod before Phillip sees his visage shift into something slightly more pleasant and he shuffles nearer and closer to his paramour. He then places a single gold coin upon the bar, setting it to spinning upon a side before calling back the barman "Vern... what does the Hoard have to offer a halfling with coin in hand and a lady to impress?"
The bartender watches the coin spin appraisingly. "Wine and wagers," he answers matter-of-factly, "to show how lucky or how clever you are. Or how much coin you're willing to risk to show her a good time. Or there's always Ghoulette," he jerks his chin toward the crowd around Liry's table, "if you're looking for a laugh."
At that moment, there is a knock at Gristav's door. "Gristav?" Samaritha's voice calls. "Mr. Vankaskerkin wants to see you."
Caught in mid-gesture, mid-word, Gristav jumps at the knock. "Sam!", he says, perhaps giving away too much in the manner he rushes to open the door, but losing no time.
Opening, the door, there's no rush to be seen. He hopes. "Come in. It was a ruse, to gain you from the table without informing Thuvalia." Ushering Samaritha into the room with a gesture and a raised brow, Gristav shuts the door, saying, "Samaritha, you know Snake... and Daynadrian?"
Looking at the imbibables arrayed before her, "Probably not," she giggles. "Do you want to share?"
"Sure."
Braddon looks over the collection."Where should I start? Which is your favourite? I don't even know what that is. Is that meant to do that?"
"Come in. It was a ruse, to gain you from the table without informing Thuvalia." Ushering Samaritha into the room with a gesture and a raised brow, Gristav shuts the door, saying, "Samaritha, you know Snake... and Daynadrian?"
Samaritha enters the already-crowded room somewhat grudgingly. "I.... What? What is this...?" Her gaze slides over the elf child, then snaps back with an expression of shock. "Daynadrian? That's not...!" The boy smirks and waves. "What happened?"
"Well then, lets start with the first... what bottles do you have beneath the bar gathering dust and awaiting a saviour?" noting the barkeep's eyes upon the gold, and implying that he'd have a care to know what might be resting within the private selection.
Samaritha enters the already-crowded room somewhat grudgingly. "I.... What? What is this...?" Her gaze slides over the elf child, then snaps back with an expression of shock. "Daynadrian? That's not...!" The boy smirks and waves. "What happened?"
"He's been cursed. The brothel lady got him. Give it a moment... you'll find it amusing. I know I did," he says without even the slightest hint of a smile.
"Shorafa Pamodae, would be the 'brothel lady'. Although, we still have no reason why, only a somewhat dire demand to attend her, 'all of Saul's men'. Which I'd had half a thought to do, myself, before Saul recoiled from the idea. Which was before Dayn expressed Shorafa's demand. So now, we've that conflict. You've been requested to consult as a magician. Pray... do.", Gristav asks, with a stage-clearing wave, and an attentive and expectant silence.
"Cursed? By Shorafa?" Samaritha asks incredulously. "What did you do?" She intones the syllable of a cantrip and begins to examine the elf-child.
He waves his hand dismissively. "Sunday night, I asked a couple of boys to keep an eye out for Zincher's men. Shorafa took exception. Not important now."
"What bottles do you have beneath the bar gathering dust and awaiting a saviour?"
"We have a claret," he replies, "and some sparkling wines. And a bottle of whiskey. Might be a bit strong for the little lady, though."
Ethel, watching the pair with amusement, shrugs as she takes another sip of her cocktail. "I don't have to get up and go to work in the morning," she reminds Phil.
"I'm guessing it remains important to Shorafa.", Gristav says, loosing the straps of his plundered armor. "And that you're little closer to her lifting the curse. These orphans' importance to her won't change; your actions now past, cannot change; perhaps you might re-examine your sense of the importance of your interactions with the orphans, where it's seen to lead to Shorafa's ire?"
Gristav lifts off his armor, and is about to make a casting of his own, but stops, his eyes flicking toward Samaritha. Nodding, he begins to put on the armor he'd rode into town with.
"When's this meeting suppose to take place?" he asks the youngster.
Braddon and Lexy make some progress on her accumulated beverages, as most of Lexy's would-be suitors fade grudgingly back into the crowd. Braddon downs two of the drinks for every one Lexy empties but finds most of them don't pack the punch he was expecting.
Arnando drifts down toward their end of the bar, under the pretense of wiping down the counter. "Started watering them down when everyone started buying them for her," he murmurs to Braddon. "Wasn't going to let her stumble out of here with one of those fellows ... or alone, and have one of them follow her." He grimaces somewhat apologetically at the ceiling. "Cayden will forgive me."
"When's this meeting suppose to take place?"
Back at the Goblin, before Daynadrian can answer, there is yet another knock at the door of Gristav's room.
"Started watering them down when everyone started buying them for her," he murmurs to Braddon. "Wasn't going to let her stumble out of here with one of those fellows ... or alone, and have one of them follow her." He grimaces somewhat apologetically at the ceiling. "Cayden will forgive me."
"Thanks. I owe you. And Eulalie. Again. If there's anything I can ever do for you guys, you just have to ask."
Braddon slides some gold almost apologetically across the bar to Arnando."I knew you'd take care of her. And me. And Sam. She said she's a cypher mage now. You're not gonna bar her from here are you?"
With a slight smirk forming and the dangerous flicker coming back unto his eyes Phillip gives a slight shrug to accede "Who am I to stand between..." turning back to Vern "Two shots, straight up, no ice..." before leaning forward "and something elvish and sparkling put on ice." with a brief wink and nod to Vern.
"When's this meeting suppose to take place?"Back at the Goblin, before Daynadrian can answer, there is yet another knock at the door of Gristav's room.
Moving more slowly than for Samaritha, Gristav moves to the unhinged side of the door, and opens it, stepping out as he ushers in, expecting Saul alone would fill the space Gris left, and not favoring the image of Bojasc crowded with Samaritha.
"She's in a sort of meditation, pray let her finish...", Gristav cautions from the threshold, perhaps obstructing Bojasc's passage into the crowded room. Or perhaps not.
Gristav's warning comes too late, as the new arrival breaks Samaritha's concentration. Her face flushes as red as her hair. "I... I don't know," she stammers, shaking her head.
Saul strides into the room, trusting that those already in it will move aside or press against the wall to make room for him, while Bojasc hovers in the doorway, his bulk both preventing the door from closing again and making a fair replacement for the slab of wood. He openly stares at the elf-child sitting on the bed, chuckling nervously under his breath as he runs the fingers of his good hand around the stump of his other wrist. "Suppose I could have had it worse, eh?" he asks no one in particular.
"It's all right," Daynadrian puts in hurriedly. "Snake was able to identify the spell, and he thinks he may know how to put it right."