Saul nods distantly. "That's fine, lad. Let me know if there's anything you need."
Gristav lets himself into the office. Like the bedroom downstairs, it is dark, tidy -- and empty.
Worry growing, Gristav works his key to the desk, mindful enough to conjure a mote to guide his hand, heartful overmuch; his mind unguided, wandering wild, on ways West of weal.
If he'd left a note, he'd leave it here. If he didn't, what would that mean?
He hadn't any answer. He hadn't even finished the question.
Having finished her pastry and her cup of tea, Samaritha pushes back her chair and gets to her feet a bit self-consciously. "Well ... I really should be going. Thank you again for all you've done for me. You'll tell Mr. Felden? I hope he doesn't think I'm rude to disappear like this. He wasn't at dinner last night either. If there's ever anything I can do for you, Mr. Vankaskerkin ... well, I can't imagine what it would be, but you know the tale of the firepelt and the mouse ... just send word." She looks around the table, giving Snake a polite nod before her glance hurries quickly around Bojasc, her eyes dipping to the table. "Phillip. Braddon." She pauses a moment on each of them with a warm smile. "You know where to find me."
"Of course, my dear," Saul sets down his mug and rises from the table to take her hand. "I wish you all the success you so richly deserve. And please do feel free to come to the Gold Goblin's Varisian caravan event tomorrow night as my guest."
Samaritha blushes as Saul kisses her hand. "I ... I'm not sure I'll be free. I can't exactly ask for an evening off on my second day there. But I'll drop in if I can."
Snake responds with a slight nod of his own to the woman, having zero idea of where to find her - but not really concerned about it either.
Gristav uses the key the dwarf gave him to open the lower drawer of the desk where the packet addressed to Larur's brother is supposed to reside. The drawer is empty.
Now what, clever boy?, Mother mocked.
Almost dutifully, a childlike quarter of the half-elf's mind shrieked and flailed it's arms about. It might have run in circles, tripping over the dwarf's darkness, if it weren't trapped between Gristav's ears.
Gristav stared, silently, into the drawer, a heartbeat, then sighed, and measured the rest of the room. Had it all been rifled, looted? Or the packet only, precisely disappeared?
He locked the drawer while the mote wandered, and didn't allow himself long, before he was locking the office, as well, and headed for the kitchen, and the back door...
"Phillip. Braddon." She pauses a moment on each of them with a warm smile. "You know where to find me."
"I'll figure it out."
Braddon stands and give Samaritha a quick hug, before returning to his pastry.
"You need anything yourself, you know where to find us."
Catching Sam's reference, Phillip returns the smile with equal warmth and adds "Go well little bird... Ura ez atzean begiratu." before winking.
With a smile and a nod, Samaritha departs the Gold Goblin for her coveted position in the Cypherlodge.
------------------------------
Had it all been rifled, looted? Or the packet only, precisely disappeared?
The drawer does not appear to have been forced, nor does anything in the office look anything other than tidy and exact, as Larur habitually leaves it. His best guess is that someone with a key unlocked the drawer and removed the packet.
Catching sight of Samaritha shutting the kitchen's door, Gris sighs, and silently wishes her well. He soberly walks to the door, and locks it, then turns to ponder what's known, with fresh, and different, perspective.
A person leaving, and a delivery, might result in a delivery left alone and unannounced. And an empty drawer, to match the absent dwarf? It might.
And he'd missed Sam, while he whipped about worrying.
Melancholy, he mounted the stairs.
"Well, that's Sam.", he sums, as he enters.
"What is?" Tendal asks with a puzzled frown.
"Sam? An excellent question. Gone, for now. A period, at least, if not a flourish, nor finial."
Braddon offers a pastry to Gristav.
"Eat this. It doesn't make you feel better, but it stops you being hungry as well."
He nods sagely and turns back to Saul.
"So, we get the day off and just stay out of trouble?"
"Sam? An excellent question. Gone, for now. A period, at least, if not a flourish, nor finial."
"Ah. Yes. We know," Tendal replies. "She was just saying her goodbyes."
"So, we get the day off and just stay out of trouble?"
"Hm? Oh, yes," Saul replies. "Stay out of trouble. Not always my motto, I must admit, but a wise option in this case." He stands, picking up his not-yet-empty coffee mug as he does so. "Having seen off the delightful Miss Beldusc, I suppose that's all the business for the morning?"
Bojasc also rises at his left hand.
At Saul's uncharacteristic dismission Phillip muses then adds "Saul, given we're done here... there is a matter I'd discuss privately?" reading the reaction of both he and 'bodyguard' both for signs.
"Sam? An excellent question. Gone, for now. A period, at least, if not a flourish, nor finial.""Ah. Yes. We know," Tendal replies. "She was just saying her goodbyes."
Gristav sighed, sadly, but managed a sincere smile as he said, "There's none of us, we'd miss so swiftly."
Braddon offers a pastry to Gristav.
"Eat this. It doesn't make you feel better, but it stops you being hungry as well."
Gristav takes the proffered pastry, chuckling. "Heh. Wisdom."
"So, we get the day off and just stay out of trouble?""Hm? Oh, yes," Saul replies. "Stay out of trouble. Not always my motto, I must admit, but a wise option in this case." He stands, picking up his not-yet-empty coffee mug as he does so. "Having seen off the delightful Miss Beldusc, I suppose that's all the business for the morning?"
Bojasc also rises at his left hand.
At Saul's uncharacteristic dismission Phillip muses then adds "Saul, given we're done here... there is a matter I'd discuss privately?" reading the reaction of both he and 'bodyguard' both for signs.
His mouth full of pastry, it takes Gristav this long to clear it, and say, "And if it's the same matter, I have some public words." Setting the pastry onto a plate with obvious regret, Gristav says, "Regarding the house that had been - at least for some - Sarenraeite. That was what I thought it to be, until it was made clear, another Power held sway. Even then, I remained - I remain - aware, others, sincerely, supplicated She of the Sun. It was thus, that I thought, of the building. And I was too slow, burdened with the bloodshed, and the souls I'd struck free, to see, and then to accept, that Her service was more than we might manage, or want to manage. As you all went in support of my intentions, I owed, more care, to your own. At that, I failed."
Saul watches Gristav's public confession with minimal comprehension. "Er, yes, all right, Master Hargreaves," he replies to Phil. "My office?" He gestures with his stump, so as not to spill his coffee.
Phillip's eyes are hard as Gristav focuses in on the conduct yesterday, painting it in his own particular light. Responding Phillip is curt and clarifies "It's not... but as to yesterday..." musing over several less kind and unsavory statements before settling for brutal honesty "You are a lelo." his words not an insult, but a simple statement of fact.
"Even now your blind eyes do not see, your deaf ears do not hear... and you remain incapable of putting your head before your heart. Tend to your supposed Dawnflower penitents on your own conscience... but they have nothing to do with this place." turning and walking as Saul gestures stumpfully into his office.
Gristav takes two small plates with pastry in one hand, pours a cup of black coffee, and sets his bitten pastry on the cup. Taking the cup by the handle, he heads back downstairs.
Gris pauses in the kitchen to set down the coffee and take another bite of his pastry, before again bridging it on the cup, and continuing toward the staff rooms.
Tendal rises as well, as the breakfast meeting seems to be breaking up. "I'll be coordinating with the gnome talent agent today over the set-up for the performers," he tells Saul. "I'll send word if we run into any difficulties we can't iron out between us."
Heading back downstairs, Gristav finds himself sharing the stairwell with the Magnimarian wizard going in the same direction. "Taking that to Miss Barabbio?" he asks conversationally, nodding to the coffee and pastries. "You're wasting your time courting that one. Thoroughly unpleasant harridan. Still, I suppose there's something to be said for keeping the talent happy, particularly so close to a performance."
Saul crosses the sitting room to his office door and pauses, waiting for Bojasc to open it for him, as his one good hand is occupied with his coffee mug.
Although his manner is cheerful enough, you caught a tremble to his hand as he was pouring his shot as well as a touch of nervousness as he waited for the door to open.
Braddon and Snake find themselves being left alone in the dining room with tea, pastries, and coffee.
Heading back downstairs, Gristav finds himself sharing the stairwell with the Magnimarian wizard going in the same direction. "Taking that to Miss Barabbio?" he asks conversationally, nodding to the coffee and pastries. "You're wasting your time courting that one. Thoroughly unpleasant harridan. Still, I suppose there's something to be said for keeping the talent happy, particularly so close to a performance."
"The pastry are for our lad and lass", Gristav chuckles, "And I'm courting neither. But I hope I'm helping both. I suppose I should have waited until asked. Though I guess he did... As for Thuvalia, if she can't stir herself to a proper harridan howl, one begins to worry, both as a businessman, and as a person."
Snake simply rolls his eyes and shakes his head at Gristav's pointless confession, saying nothing as he's tired of wasting his breath on the magus.
As the room clears out, he notices Braddon working furiously to scarf one pastry after another. "Hey, bub, don't eat them all." He reaches and grabs one before they're all gone and feeds it to Lucky. Looking back to Braddon, "Hog."
Phillip follows Saul into his office, walking slowly past Bojasc but not pausing to look at him.
Continuing in the same vein "How many are rigged for a day do you think? Some seemed to have a mite more feeling than the others whilst I watched the day past." waiting for Saul to answer... and also keeping time to see if Bojasc was intending to come within or remain without.
"Hey, bub, don't eat them all." He reaches and grabs one before they're all gone and feeds it to Lucky. Looking back to Braddon, "Hog."
Braddon shrugs. "Gotta eat. With Sam gone, there's more for the rest us. Sam, and Dayn, and Malkith, and the Harpy. We don't wanna waste any."
Braddon pours some tea and looks at it wistfully."I miss Sam already. She made this taste like ale."
Braddon puts aside the tea and pours some coffee.
"So, how is Dayn? What happened after I left last night? Should we speak to him?"
Braddon pours some tea and looks at it wistfully. "I miss Sam already. She made this taste like ale."
Braddon puts aside the tea and pours some coffee.
"So, how is Dayn? What happened after I left last night? Should we speak to him?"
"He's still young. Haven't spoken to Raccoon about the assistance the elf's gonna need in getting 'un-young'. Didn't wanna say anything in front of Saul and his over-sized friend; especially when it comes to who we're gonna have to speak to about it. Maybe you can find a moment to tell him he's gonna be needed on this one." Snake reaches and takes the tea, taking a drink. "Hm. Not bad."
Saul restoppers the bottle and puts it away before answering. "At the arena? Can't say I've ever spent any real time there. I know that the Fireday afternoon bouts are usually a glorified scrimmage, though: the real crowds come out on Starday, and neither Cleg nor Croat wants a gladiator gimpy from injury on the sand in front of their largest audience." He moves around behind his desk and sits in the tall blue leather chair, and Bojasc follows. "Cleg also usually reserves his exotic beasts for Starday; I'd be interested to know if his little stunt with the crate of spiders has cost him a featured event," he grins.
"The pastry are for our lad and lass", Gristav chuckles, "And I'm courting neither. But I hope I'm helping both. I suppose I should have waited until asked. Though I guess he did..."
"Hm? Oh, I suppose you mean the elf has returned," Tendal replies dismissively. "Feeling the aftereffects of his indecent carousals yesterday, I trust?" Passing Desna's effigy, Tendal stops at his door, the first in the corridor. "Honestly, if he can't make it out of bed and up the stairs to get his own breakfast, I'd just let him go hungry." He unlocks the door and lets himself into his room.
"He's still young. Haven't spoken to Raccoon about the assistance the elf's gonna need in getting 'un-young'. Didn't wanna say anything in front of Saul and his over-sized friend; especially when it comes to who we're gonna have to speak to about it."
Braddon looks quizzically at Snake.
"What do we hafta do? Who do we hafta see?"Braddon peers about suspiciously and lowers his voice.
"I also need to speak to you guys about something. Maybe we should all meet downstairs or something."
The halfling then picks his words and intonation "There was one fight that stood out though... ended with the better fighter taking a knee. Watching closely it's not hard to tell when a man's not showing his best cards." pausing with a straight stare at Saul to impress a meaning beyond meaning.
Breaking the pause as though remembering why he'd asked to see Saul, he works in a cover "Oh, right... when I was talking with the shipwright I tried to lure his slips come over with promises of the first drinks on the house. Depending whether you think the wheezing dwarf will blow a gasket on the matter - will it be the Goblin or myself to cover the cost?" trying to read into Saul and Bojasc's faces any reaction to dropping Larur's name into the mix.
Braddon looks quizzically at Snake.
"What do we hafta do? Who do we hafta see?"
Braddon peers about suspiciously and lowers his voice.
"I also need to speak to you guys about something. Maybe we should all meet downstairs or something."
Snake looks at the ranger with confusion. "I thought you knew." He then leans in a bit, "Alright, your buddy went off and ticked off Shorafa, so she turned him into a kid ... she used a curse on him. Now - and this is according to the kid - the only way she's gonna turn him back into his normal self is for all of us to meet with her." Snake shrugs. "Don't ask me why that's so important or how that's gonna solve anything, but, there you have it. I don't trust it but I kinda feel sorry for the kid, so I figured I'd help out. So if you want to meet downstairs with everyone, you'd better find a way to get Raccoon down there. I think he left out of here with Saul. Not sure, I wasn't really paying attention."
As Snake finishes giving Braddon the low down, a serious gaze through narrowed eyes look the ranger dead in the eye for a moment just before his eyes dart to one of the few pastries left. He reaches out and takes one before they're all gone... taking a serious bite.
"As for the Small folk," he goes on, "I don't see why we can't afford to comp them one. Skiffs is a thirsty game, and I know few admirals who can last through a storm on a single drink, eh?" he winks companionably at you, as he takes a use-bedraggled quill from a stand on his desk and scribbles down a note to himself on a parchment. "I'll speak with Covey, and we'll work out some sort of token they can redeem at the bar, tomorrow night only to encourage them to turn up and use it. You'll have people who can spread them throughout the halfling community when they're ready? How many do you reckon we'll need?"
Rising from his seat he muses and shrugs "Perhaps a couple of dozen? I'll pick them up this evening and see them spread where they need be. I appreciate the gesture, and between that and the smaller furniture we should give a decent reason to draw the usual crowd from the 'Cress. Morning." before tipping his imaginary hat companionably at Saul and Bojasc both and turning to depart.
"Raccoon?"
Braddon raises an eyebrow and takes another pastry.
He chews thoughtfully, mulling over Snake's report.
"Shorafa wants us to meet her? Why doesn't she send a note? I met her at the start of the week. She doesn't seem very clever. She can't control her flunkies and then tries to blame us for their actions. I can't see her lasting much longer. Maybe Dayn told her that. I can see how that'd upset her. I'm not racist, but these tieflings are nothing but trouble."
Saul has no reaction to your reference to Larur, but you think you catch a sardonic twitch at the corner of the Varisian bodyguard's mouth at the mention.
Saul returns your nod of farewell, while Bojasc merely stares daggers after you out the door.
While Braddon and Snake are still talking and eating, the door from Saul's office is seen to open into the sitting room through the open doorway, and Phillip comes out.
"Pastry?" Braddon offers to Phillip, trying not to look guilty.
He peers past Phillip at Saul's door.
"We're just heading down to talk to Dayn. Join us."
Braddon does not devolve into his usual chatter, but takes a few steps towards the door out and waits expectantly.
Phillip seems distracted somewhat as he waves off the pastry, and there is an undercurrent of intense thought running through his features. The suggestion of a group conversation rouses him though, and he looks up to nod "Aye... let's go" before making to follow Braddon away and through.
Snake rises and heads out with the others, Lucky still perched upon his shoulder.
After they breach the door to Saul's office and start downstairs Phillip sighs and adds in low ebb "Is Gristav still here? The words will need concern him as well."
"Is Gristav still here?"
The three men go back down the stairs to the main floor. It seems quiet and forlorn, as if Samaritha's absence is already making itself known. The corridor of the residential wing is empty, although they have reason to believe several of the rooms to be occupied by people from whom they are supposed to keep Daynadrian's predicament. The elf's room is the last one on the left, across from the linen closet and adjacent to one of the curious tall, thin windows common to the Gold Goblin, through the colored glass of which sunlight is now falling in a narrow, amber ribbon.
Braddon tilts his head to one side.
"It's quiet. Too quiet."