With the announcement of the dance, Snake's interest is piqued and he makes his way over to get a better view.
Watching it all unfold rather well, "Not bad, hey, Luck? Her Highness didn't do half bad. I'm just glad it wasn't me."
As the night was pretty much uneventful, Snake retreats to his room. He pulls Lucky out of his pack and lets him loose and gets himself ready to turn in. "Another day, another night, Luck, and no real answers. Maybe tomorrow will find some at the Cove." He thinks on that a moment as he lies down in his bed, staring directly up at the ceiling. "Let's just hope it's the ones we want."
Phillip keeps to the fringes for the most part, though he does spend a healthy span of time with his folk of similar height - as well as a idle turn at Skiffs. His inamorata is tended to fleetingly also, seen to be safely ensconced within the halflings and plied with drink - but it would be clear to Miss Braum that Phillip was working for the evening.
There is a relief at first when the night passes without much of note... that seems to almost be tinged with a churlish disappointment by the end - though Phil doesn't broach the subject with any of the others in Saul's employ. He is sure to touch base with the sailors of the Fearful Jewel, both to welcome as well as confirm the time which the vessel will set sail.
As the evening dies down to embers, he sees to his flame - bidding her hasten first to chambers with a promise to follow... before seeking out the others of the crew in passing. Intent in his words are confirmation "We set out on the Jewel come morning, aye?"
At his post as assigned, Gristav tried to remain aware of more. Of spectra usually unseen, and of the motions of his peers. Imagining them as lights, he looked more deeply into where they'd leave shadows. Knowing he'd little talent for perspicacity, he instead worked to be aware of what others could be aware of, and of where that awareness would end, and looked there for others using those shadows.
It was a geometrical rote that brought him a measure of metronomic mindlessness, which, he just barely understood, in some peculiarly Tienish manner, might lead to mindfulness. To a sort of wisdom. If you weren't his sort of fool.
Which he was. So it wasn't until he'd counted his shadows to five a third time that he realized a sixth and seventh lights were missing; Bojasc and Saul, and why not among the patrons?
Hadn't they gone toward the vault? What could have kept them?
Timing his desertion so one or another of his peers' usual motion would bring light to his shadow, Gristav went to check.
A late supper of leftovers from the kitchen is available for anyone in need of refreshment after the night's work. After that, knowing that they'll have to be up in a matter of hours to board a ship by sunrise, the party retires to their rooms to snatch what sleep they can before the morning.
Before the sky has begun to grow pale beyond the eastern ridge, those intent for Roderic's Cove shake themselves groggily from a too-short sleep. There will be no leisurely breakfast meeting this morning, just a scavenged bite of yesterday's bread before a brief stroll through the still-dark streets to the wharves.
Phillip awaits the others within the kitchen, brow still furrowed and scowled in the manner of a man awakened before good time.
Snake wakes and gathers his things as he prepares to leave. Making sure he's got everything he needs - including Lucky - he steps out of the room and locks the door behind him, making his way to the kitchen.
Seeing Snake as the first to enter, Phillip gives him a small nod of acknowledgement "Serpe... ready to sail towards the past and our future?"
Taking a deep breath through his nose as he loses himself in thought a moment, "Ready as I'll ever be I guess," he finally says. "Let's just hope I don't get us all killed." Noticing no one else around, "You think I ought to go wake Braddon? Odds are he'll sleep until the moon rises if there's no breakfast to wake him."
Phillip muses on the question for a moment before shrugging "Likely worthwhile... the waking that is." chuckling slightly "I've no intent on dying on this trip... and one way or another I'm for the reckoning that you'll be at the heart of that."
As the wryest of a grin forms, "Only if I keep losing wagers to you. Let me tell you, there's only so much one man can take of her Highness," he says with absolute conviction, yet, sounding somewhat playful about it. "I'll go wake the ladies man."
Snake takes his leave and heads toward Braddon's room, knocking on the door when he gets there. "Hey, Braddon. You awake? If you're not then you need to be."
"Mph nod ewek!"
Something crashes to the floor and there's the distinct twang of a crossbow firing followed instantly by a knock on the other side of the door.
"Sorry. That shouldn't have happened. I'm awake now."
There is a hurried scuttling from within and after a while the door opens to reveal the burly half elf. The backpack he holds bulges alarmingly in various places and a foot of rope dangles from under a flap. His clothes are rumpled and creased and his hair is a mess, so he looks like he usually does.
While his swords hang dangerously from his belt and several razor sharp daggers can be seen poking about his clothes, under his arm is the stuffed toy from yesterday.
"I'm ready."
Snake simply stares at the ranger a moment with his typical unreadable expression. "Let's go," he simply says, turning and heading back to the kitchen.
Braddon, Phillip, and Snake join up with Gristav and Tendal and let themselves out the back door of the Goblin into the dark alley. Carrying their belongings, they head south toward the Wharf District.
"I do hope that this is a reputable captain. I wouldn't like to be stranded up in Roderick's Cove. I am not certain of the distance by land, but I imagine that it would take more than a few days to walk back." Tendal muses.
"We did pay for the captain to wait for us to return, correct?" he asks after a few moments.
"And has someone paid more that he not?", Gristav asked. The first words he'd spoken, burdened as he was. Not by the travelling pack, nor the quiver nor bow; he seemed inured to that. And the staff rode as lightly as ever in his grasp, though it seemed unable to choose a hand to ride in.
The burden wasn't of presence, but of absence. Absence of friend, of information, of reason. Setting on a fool's errand, in service to a woman who deserved it not, to return a servant unwilling to return... or to slay her? And anger her matron? Into the presence if not the very teeth of the gang they'd bloodied just days before. Though though the gang's teeth, he remembered his cautions, might be kinder than Lil's kiss.
"Gentlemen, should it ever appear I've had my mind or heart turned by this lady we seek, please know that you are, individually and collectively, preforgiven for any action against me in that time. I've already asked, that you prevail."
And he had, as he said. He'd stood, overlong and silent, before the Desna blocking his exit, holding his eye. Not focusing his mind, but more calling to mind all of the faceted chaos of the furors to come. All the errors he might make, that he couldn't even guess at. And the people that might be hurt by that. Or already be hurt by that. No sort of peace came, She didn't grant peace. She granted Chance. And he smirked when he thought it; a faint single sigh of a laugh.
Desna granted Chance. And a chance, was what he was taking.
Wary eyes piercing the early-dawn as he seeks proof of whether shadows are benign or harboring interest Phillip answers Tendal without turning his head t'wards "We sail on the Fearful Jewel under Captain Teach... he's a merchantman and if he knew we were worth a ransom he'd likely not need much provocation to sell us. That said he doesn't know us from the sh1t on his boots... and five gold a head is worth enough for his trouble. He'll see us to the Cove... and then he's at our backs and in the wind. We live to make our way back to Riddleport we'll be doing it by cart or horse most likely." stretching out a sore spot on his neck and then running his hand through tousled hair.
"All he knows of us is that we worked the Goblin and we'd be potentially looking for travel... and that's all he or his crew needs know eh?" turning to trade eye-line with the others by way of emphasis "If you're wanting anything more laced by way of story I'd set it straight now... but I often find that a hesitant dancing round the issue without answer the safest way to closing it with the likes of those on the ship."
To Gristav's plea Phil allows himself a quiet chuckle, glancing to the cobbles with a wry smirk on his lips and tired eyes "Fair enough Bolboreta... you start saying anything that makes sense and I'll see fit to install a quarrel in your gullet." his lilting turn of phrase and tone making clear that jest was his aim rather than serious intent.
"Gristav, I do not understand your meaning. You feel likely as not to turn against us for some reason?" Tendal asks, perplexed. "I would imagine that after the blood-soaking for the last few weeks, that you would be more than willing to see this through to the end. And if you are charmed through arcane means, I might be able to render you harmless, that is if Mr. Hargreaves doesn't skewer you first." Tendal finishes, clapping Gristav on the back before turning to Phillip, a questioning look on his face for the briefest of moments before being schooled back to Tendal's habitual frown.
"Thank you Mr. Hargreaves. I cannot imagine a good story that I could plausibly uphold against any real scrutiny. I would rather remain pensive, or mute, if the situation warrants it."
"I am certainly glad that I prepared one of my simpler magical spells...it will come in handy when we are covered in filth from our walk back down the road."
To Gristav's plea Phil allows himself a quiet chuckle, glancing to the cobbles with a wry smirk on his lips and tired eyes "Fair enough Bolboreta... you start saying anything that makes sense and I'll see fit to install a quarrel in your gullet." his lilting turn of phrase and tone making clear that jest was his aim rather than serious intent.
Unable to contain a smirk, Snake turns to Gristav, "Good for you, bub. You'll always be safe and sound with us."
"Gristav, I do not understand your meaning. You feel likely as not to turn against us for some reason?" Tendal asks, perplexed.
"You'll get used to it, bub. But if you ever actually do start to understand him, odds are you're near insanity or near death," he says as a matter of fact, shrugging nonchalantly.
Tendal's first glimpse of the Fearful Jewel, by the light of the sickly-swaying lanterns in the darkness of the pre-dawn, is less than reassuring. It's a bare-bones ship with a rough crew ... but so are most of the rest of the ships and crews in port, so it's not like he can point to a better alternative.
The party is greeted at the gangplank by one of the crewman Phillip saw around the table in the Immortal Goat. He grunts in recognition when he sees the halfling. "Turned up, did you? These your mates? Five gold a head, that's...," he pauses, his lips moving silently as he totals the fare, "twenty gold. All up front." His eyes run over what he can see of the three others in the lamplight. "Don't suppose you brought that Varisian dancer from last night, did you?" He grins, a gold tooth flashing as it catches the light.
..."... you start saying anything that makes sense and I'll see fit to install a quarrel in your gullet." his tone jest rather than serious intent.Unable to contain a smirk, Snake turns to Gristav, "Good for you, bub. You'll always be safe and sound with us."
"There is not a one of you I doubt nor fear.", Gristav says brightly.
"Gristav, I do not understand your meaning. You feel likely as not to turn against us for some reason?" Tendal asks, perplexed."You'll get used to it, bub. But if you ever actually do start to understand him, odds are you're near insanity or near death," he says as a matter of fact, shrugging nonchalantly.
"Haven't we always been? Death or madness, I don't think it can be argued, more constant companions to each of us, than any of us has been to the others."
"Gristav, I do not understand your meaning. You feel likely as not to turn against us for some reason?" Tendal asks, perplexed. "I would imagine that after the blood-soaking for the last few weeks, that you would be more than willing to see this through to the end. And if you are charmed through arcane means, I might be able to render you harmless, that is if Mr. Hargreaves doesn't skewer you first." Tendal finishes, clapping Gristav on the back before turning to Phillip, a questioning look on his face for the briefest of moments before being schooled back to Tendal's habitual frown.
"That's exactly my meaning. That if she turns her arts to turning my heart, my mind, or other parts, I expect I'll turn. The first bond I'd apply to such a sort is a hood, or a gag, even before her hands, yes, even with poisons, known in the mix."
"And if it's Somnus, you intend, I've an elven elusiveness, versus such. But, don't tell me, perhaps I shouldn't know."
To the crewman Phillip reaches into purses, taking an overlong time to count out the twenty... so as to partially obscure that the pouch is heavier and better blessed than is made out... gamely responding as he does "The dancer's more than you or I could handle friend... I'd wager afore she spent a day aboard ye'd be paying us to see her gone" handing over the coin with a wink. He waits for the man to confirm the quantity before asking "Are there quarters or are we in with the crew?" his words showing no disrespect or suggestion of airs.
The crewman re-counts the coins before dropping them into a rather dirty bag of his own and tightening the drawstrings on it. "If we don't make the Cove before midnight, it'll be because the ship's been wrecked or taken, and we'll all be looking for dry quarters," he shrugs. "Shouldn't be any need for berths, and I doubt as some of you'd find our quarters to your liking anyway." He grins at Tendal and his proper raiment. "The more out of the way you stay, the better; if that's above board or below makes no difference. But mind your business, and don't go poking noses or thieving hands where they don't belong," he warns them. "Good way to lose noses or hands, if you catch my meaning."
"If there's a corner most out of the way, please direct me to it. I've most of a night's sleep to catch, but I need nothing more than a perch I'll not fall off, to lay that trap."
Tendal remains silent, as he said he would through the exchange with the sailor, his eyes quickly glancing over the slightly distressing state of affairs of the ship. To Tendal's eyes it is a wonder that the ship even floats, much less get from one port to another. It does not resemble anything that he had experienced previously with shipping, and would never had been hired by his father's company to ship manure, much less valuable goods.
Braddon makes his way below decks and finds a space under the stairs to sit out of the way. He's close enough to be atop decks quickly, but doesn't have to face the unnatural rise and fall of the distant horizon. He gives a friendly smile to all the sailors that pass and catches any snippets of gossip he can. He also keeps his dagger visible and his gear between him and the hull.
"I've been on boats longer than I've been in Riddleport," he thinks sullenly.
And waits.
Phil gives the crewman a nod and smile, before moving away with the others. He singles out Snake with a suggestion "On deck would be easier to wear away the motion of the waves." hoping that the man joins him.
Once seconded out of the way, he makes the scarves around his neck snug and broaches the subject to come "So... any thought as to how you'd like to play this? I'm assuming that there'll come a time when you're recognized by someone..." letting Serpe finish the thought and elaborate if he chooses to.
Phil gives the crewman a nod and smile, before moving away with the others. He singles out Snake with a suggestion "On deck would be easier to wear away the motion of the waves." hoping that the man joins him.
"Sounds good to me. I prefer the open air anyway."
Once seconded out of the way, he makes the scarves around his neck snug and broaches the subject to come "So... any thought as to how you'd like to play this? I'm assuming that there'll come a time when you're recognized by someone..." letting Serpe finish the thought and elaborate if he chooses to.
Snake looks across the water as he takes a moment to try to remember something. Getting nothing to come to mind, "Unless we've got some way to disguise me, I'm gonna do my best to keep my face hidden. And when that time does come and someone notices me...," he pauses, pondering that a moment before looking to Phillip, "I'm gonna guess we won't be invited over for dinner to chat. Now we can easily assume that Marzo knows what happened at Rag's End and who are the catalysts behind it. At the very least, he knows I was a part of it." Looking back out across the water, he places his hands in his coat pockets, unable to find a good ending to this one. "Be ready, Raccoon, I've got a bad feeling this may turn south real quick. We're walking straight into the lion's den and I'm willin' to bet Marzo's got eyes all over the Cove. Of course, if we're lucky, we won't draw attention to ourselves, we find who/what we're looking for, and we hightail it back to the Goblin unscathed." He cuts his eyes over at Phillip a moment before looking back out over the water, "Yeah, no way I'm bettin' on that one either," he says, shaking his head in annoyance. Returning his attention back to the halfling, "Okay, this is how I think we're gonna have to play this out. Keep you and Braddon up front. You do the talking while Braddon stands there and looks tough. The more the focus is on you two, the better. I'll 'hide' as best I can behind Braddon. Outside of that, if it comes to blades... let's hope we win," he concludes, shrugging.
Phillip listens to Snake's thoughts on the matter with genuine interest and lets the man spill his full opinion without interrupting. Once quiet comes he gives a measured nod before adding some counter points "Fair enough... and I'd agree we're walking a knife's edge, from memory Gristav offered a means of clothing your face in unfamiliar means - might be enough to get off the docks without detection... but discovery is a matter of time."
"I can draw the eye, Braddon offer the arm... but don't dismiss the potential of your face. Could be it'd still open doors and cow the locals at the periphery. Marzo might have kept the particulars of your departure relatively close to chest."
As the last of Phillip's words run through his mind, "Huh. I hadn't thought of that. This could definitely play into our favor. I guess we roll the dice and see what turns up then. We're either gonna win big or wish we hadn't played. But either way, once we reach the Cove... let the games begin," he says with a tone of finality.
Standing in the stern, Tendal watches Riddleport slip behind the ship and vanish behind the rise of cliff and ocean.
Even if it is a short trip, it feels good to be on the road once more. he thinks, enjoying the smell of wind and wave.
The group aboard the Fearful Jewel have passed beneath the soaring arch of the Cyphergate (each sailor paying some superstitious tribute to the moment and giving a resentful glare to any passengers who are noticed not to improvise some sort of obeisance) and are well out of Riddleport Harbor by sunrise. Over the port railing, the broken spars of the Boneyard are tipped in sunlight where the ruined and rotting hulks of ships have been run aground; a faint smudge of smoke ascending marks the spot near the Boneyard Cut where Hyram Krooge is said to keep a bonfire always burning with the detritus of the town. Braddon thinks he glimpses some small lights flickering in and out of the darkness between the wrecks and thinks uneasily of Captain Cullie and his crew.
Once Riddleport dwindles into the distance behind the stern of the ship, there is nothing to look at other than the waves and the gray-green smudge of shoreline to the north which is never quite out of sight as the Jewel skirts it, heading east. It is an uneventful trip, the crew treating their passengers as more than inanimate cargo only when they bark at them to get out of the way, but the party is paying neither for pleasant company nor luxurious accommodations; boredom is better than most alternatives, however, when on a small wooden craft over a mile or more of salt water.
The sun sinks behind them, painting the western sea in colors of pink and gold, and still the ship sails on. It is almost an hour after sunset when a glimmer of light becomes visible to the northeast, a glimmer which resolves itself into a small constellation of lanterns and lit windows as the ship approaches Roderic's Cove. At this stage of the night, the party is deprived of a chance to have a good look at the town. It does seem, to their eyes, much smaller than Riddleport, most of the lights clustered near the shore, with no hint of neighborhoods deeper inland to correspond to Leeward District or the like.
As the passengers try to avoid the crew's activity as they bring the ship into port, the sailor to whom they paid their fare pauses nearby and asks, "You know where you're going once you're ashore?"
"I have no idea how Markos can live like that. Thank Abadar for solid ground and civilisation."
Braddon tested the ground underfoot and waited for it to stop swaying, which it did soon enough. He thanked the sailor to whom they paid their fares.
"We'll be fine, many thanks. We've been here before."
A lie, of course, but a comforting one. A quick scan showed Roderic's Cove in all its quaintness and Braddon smiled to himself. While totally unfamiliar with Roderic's Cove, he knew the outlying villages of the Chelsih border and recognised the sleepy warehouses where security was lax, the worn wharves where small fishing boats barely able to float shared berths with one or two company boats and the overpriced inn at the furthest end of the harbour, where prices would be extortionate if they were even open at all. Whistling quietly to himself, he hid one dagger in his boot, sequestered the other in his belt and made sure his bastard sword swung easily from its sheath. He waited while they all gathered, then followed his companions into the town.
Snake steps off the boat, ignoring the sailor's question as he walks past him and scans the scenery, wondering if there is anything at all he might remember.
Phillip gives a wry wink and a tip of an imaginary hat to the sailor before he waits beside Braddon. At surreptitious moment he leans close to confide "Off and out of sight of the docks, then take a quiet corner to get our bearings?"
The five men step off the boat onto a dark wharf not dramatically different than the one they stepped off before sunrise this morning. There is less foot traffic, and the boardwalk is far shorter; but it is lined by the same sort of ramshackle waterfront taverns. Down the narrow alleys between them, the lights of other modest buildings are visible; the party is well aware of the kinds of threats that lurk in the alleyways of Wharf District back in Riddleport and can surmise that the same types of predators, both humanoid and otherwise, may prowl the darkness here. It looks as if there may be a wider street down at the end of the pier.
"Before we make our way to the high street, gentlemen...", Gristav preambles softly, hoping for signs of attention from the other four. "We might be observed even now. Scavengers especially, I'm told, are attentive and curious. Let us stand close enough to speak softly, and perhaps, if it's decided, part in twos and threes, arguably as if only met on the boat? If it's decided."
"I don't wish to divide us, but we should enumerate our goals. There's the prize, to be returned to her... matron. The question, I expect rides foremost in Mr. Kane's mind. Or rather, the empty space the question's answer would fill. Questions may even be put to us, perhaps pointedly, by local interests. And, when, those needs are met, we'll have need of speed, away, if not back."
"Have I missed anything? Are there any other motivations?"
"I propose we keep in mind our need for speed while we look at the other elements, and, having identified such a source, keep it in mind as a goal, if we're separated by winds, or scattered by force."
"And if we are to part, then before we do, Mr. Kane, if you could do, that hoodoo, you do?"
Phillip gives a wry wink and a tip of an imaginary hat to the sailor before he waits beside Braddon. At surreptitious moment he leans close to confide "Off and out of sight of the docks, then take a quiet corner to get our bearings?"
Glancing around, "My thoughts exactly."
As Gristav's speech finally comes to an end, "'Hoodoo?' Is that what the kids are callin' it these days?" he asks sardonically, shaking his head that's paired with a roll of his eyes. Laying a hand on the magus's shoulder, his eyes glow their bluish white once again and then fades.
"We don't split up, Gristav; we stay together. Now look, me and Raccoon have already worked this out. He's gonna do the talking. Braddon's gonna be the muscle next to him. Mr. Suit here will...," he stops as he thinks about it a moment. He then looks at Tendal with a blank look before eventually looking to Phillip and shrugging, not really knowing what he can do. Returning to his train of thought, "Raccoon will decide the part you play, bub, I don't really know anything about you. But you strike me as fairly smart," he tells Tendal honestly. His attention then goes back to Gristav, "And you, Gristav, will be next to me while I try to keep my face as covered as best I can behind my coat flaps and Braddon." He then attempts to think of anything else he may have missed but is unable to come up with anything. Looking to Phillip, "Does that pretty much cover it, Raccoon? Go ahead and clean up whatever I missed and then we can get this show on the road."
"Braddon's is a pretty face; draws an eye. There's no shadow, behind a torch. Nor much behind the same lapels and hat... as you left with? But, I'll bow to your wisdoms; for all I know, you're more widely traveled than I, quite used, to being new, in a town. On reflection, I realize, it's the entirety, of your experience."
Gristav takes his assigned station beside Snake, his eyes dancing, following flitters and flows of fae logic...
"I see the wisdom in a lack of disguise. If you areseen, it shouldn't be seen, that you wanted not to be seen. You wouldn't have come to this town, not to be seen. Let's do hope, that an introduction is made, before it would seem, you'd avoided it."
Stepping off the ship Phillip re-binds his scarves tighter around his neck, wrapping with height almost to swallow chin. His hands remain by his side, overjacket manipulated to offer glimpse of ready blade with every other step... the air he wished to portray one of readiness and nascent violent intent. Letting the art arcane steeped into his sleeves seep into his appearance, he gives his clothes a more weathered appearance. His eyes are busy, flitting left and right for either threat or sign... he knew that the Cove was Sczarni, and that the family would most likely be involved in what they were there to seek. It would do best for them to identify and choose to engage with that element rather than have choice taken from them.
As the details flow Phil is clipped and direct in reply "Aye, together... we split up and we're ripe for the taking. First order of business is finding a bolt-hole for the night... somewhere we can use as a touch stone in case we get separated, and also somewhere to get a decent meal and bed." wryly smiling as a thought comes to his mind "And at this Magnimar can show his worth - come, sniff out an Inn that you'd find palatable for purpose." offering Tendal a position on point beside Braddon where his more refined airs might guide them towards a horrifically expensive... though hopefully marginally safer locale to base themselves.
The halfling also adds on other matters "Once we have lodging, we can look to the lay of the land and matters of the Teeth and Treeg and all other points of note. Hopefully while keeping free of Marzo and his men... though if they do come upon us, soft hands on blades and wary words before we get to bloodletting. He knows little of us and we none of him..."
Braddon nods and strides down the dock then turns towards the nearest, smallest, grimy alleyway.
"That's the best place to watch us from."
He waves in its general direction.
"Wanna check it out? Though I am up for a comfy night's sleep. Fancypants pays, right?"
Tendal ponders this logic for a moment before asking, "Should I endeavor to make myself more prominent, and therefore take more eyes off of you gentlemen? Not a disguise per say, but more a distraction...slight of hand as it were?"
He stops speaking for a moment before looking about, almost furtively, as if realizing his surroundings for the first time. "Irrespective of our final plan and subsequent execution of such, should we really be having a protracted discussion on the pier, in the open air? I believe that whatever is to be decided, it happen quickly and we move with alacrity afterwards."
Snake turns to the well dressed man, "Sounds good. Now find us a place to hole up and we'll discuss whatever we need to there. Let's move." Snake lowers the front of his hat down a bit while angling his face down nearly as much. He then pulls his coat flaps together as best he can and nods, ready to move.
Phillip smirks at Tendal's words "Just be yourself Magnimar... it'll serve."
Straightening his suitcoat and drawing himself up with as much dignity as he can muster in his current surroundings, Tendal leads the way down the wharf, heading for the main road. Roderic's Cove has no cobblestones, only hard-packed dirt under a sparse dusting of gravel which grits unpleasantly underfoot.
The places of business further inland don't improve much on the waterfront, from a respectability point of view, but Tendal steers the group toward a storefront whose windows are less grimy than most and almost entirely unbroken. The placard over the door depicts a pleased-looking fish in a pot of gold coins, below which are inscribed the words 'The Fish and Fortune.'
Inside is a spare common room, with mismatched tables as likely to have upturned crates or kegs as chairs around them scattered across a bare plank floor. To one side of the bar, a door is slightly ajar; to the other, stairs ascend toward an upper floor. The man behind the bar is entirely bald and tremendously fat, managing to look both piggish and forbidding at once. The room is crowded with what looks to be an overwhelmingly sea-faring clientele, but the party's entry hasn't yet seemed to attract any undue attention.
Great. This ought to be good, he thinks sarcastically to himself. Snake leans in toward the others a bit, "You know, you'd think I'd remember a dive like this. Stay on your toes." Snake keeps his eyes moving from one table to the next, wondering if a face or an object of some kind might bring back something to his memory.
Snake leans in toward the others a bit, "You know, you'd think I'd remember a dive like this. Stay on your toes."
"So there is dancing?", Gristav asks in faux fae hopefulness.
Braddon makes his way up to the large man at the bar.
"Round of drinks for five, thanks. Do you have any rooms good enough for him?" Braddon jabs a thumb in Tendal's direction and grins.