"It seems Gristav, that we need to make further inquiries about the Jewel. Mr. Steen was saying how It flies Cromarckey's flag, and received some damage in the wave, but is getting repaired quite quickly." he says to Gristav as he alights.
"See anything of note from the shiptop?" he asks, curious as to what Gristav was about.
By way of example, Braddon picks out a pricier meat dish and a bottle of wine.
He looks to Lexy. "What's a firepelt?"
"It seems Gristav, that we need to make further inquiries about the Jewel. Mr. Steen was saying how It flies Cromarckey's flag, and received some damage in the wave, but is getting repaired quite quickly." he says to Gristav as he alights.
"See anything of note from the shiptop?" he asks, curious as to what Gristav was about.
"Night drapes. In Her darkness, a mother's quilted kindness, a mauler's blinding hood. 'Neath boughs and bowers layered leaves, life hunts on. All is good." Gristav replies in a reverie of recollection, dazed until the butterfly lands on his nose, and he startles. "Ah... no.", he replies in simpler earnest.
"If I had to guess, it'd be the scarlet Cazynsik might have flown if it were delayed, more than any color in the pennant. Caz, Jack of Hammers, can't answer trump lead in Knives. The trouble with a private police force is they don't answer to the public. That empowers the thuggish types, and well, full circle."
"We might speed your service, Steen. We will try. If you see an increase, and we don't meet again, consider it a gift to honor your wit and goodwill, the sound of one hand washing."
"Tendal, were you done? Unless Steen has an outsized need for charts, or a fine cutlass with a bit of bloody history?" At this, Gristav gave Steen a glance. "We should perhaps, roll on?"
Tendal taps his cane on the wooden deck in approval of Gristav's impromptu poetry.
"Good enough then. Mr. Steen, thank you for your time and assistance in that slight matter on the docks." Tendal says with a quick bow, then spins on his heel, and makes his way to the gangplank and down to the dock.
"Shall we see about selling some of our recently aquired items? Or did you have more obtrusive skulking planned? Or perhaps flitting after butterflies?" Tendal asks, eyebrow quirked at Gristav a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
Lexy orders Garundi mutton.
"Unless Steen has an outsized need for charts, or a fine cutlass with a bit of bloody history?" At this, Gristav gave Steen a glance.
"Charts, you say?" Steen replies, with a gleam of interest in his eyes. "Of what part of the globe? Are they old or written in an unknown language? Hints of treasure or unusual geographical features?"
"Good enough then. Mr. Steen, thank you for your time and assistance in that slight matter on the docks."
"Not at all, not at all!" he returns genially. "Always happy to be of help."
Braddon takes a sip of wine and leans in to Lexy.
"Do they have a reputation for sleekness and cunning like other red heads?" Braddon twirls a lock of Lexy's hair round his finger.
"Good enough then. Mr. Steen, thank you for your time and assistance in that slight matter on the docks.""Not at all, not at all!" he returns genially. "Always happy to be of help."
[/splice]
"Shall we see about selling some of our recently aquired items? Or did you have more obtrusive skulking planned? Or perhaps flitting after butterflies?" Tendal asks, eyebrow quirked at Gristav a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
"Unless Steen has an outsized need for charts, or a fine cutlass with a bit of bloody history?" At this, Gristav gave Steen a glance."Charts, you say?" Steen replies, with a gleam of interest in his eyes. "Of what part of the globe? Are they old or written in an unknown language? Hints of treasure or unusual geographical features?"
"Hints? Aren't there always hints? An odd stain, a subtle shine, a curious pinhole... A faint acridity - does it need a candle? But I've turned a curious eye and chaotic mind o'er these already. Why not let you have a time with them? Not as if you'll sail away, and I'll return soon enough. Peruse, Record, Re-copy-ate...?", Gristav grins at this failing of scansion, the syllabic torture toward the wellknown motto. Too large to prestidigitate, the map tube had to be searched and handled from Gristav's pack, which gave Steen or Tendal time for any reply, but Gristav did not thereafter linger, working down the plank after, pointedly with, Tendal, for any curious, half-lidded, dark-minded eye...
"Why not, some of each?", he belatedly replied.
"Peruse, Record, Re-copy-ate...?", Gristav grins at this failing of scansion, the syllabic torture toward the wellknown motto.
Steen meets Gristav's gaze with some surprise. "Indeed, indeed, I dare say!" he replies, accepting the tube with a nod of thanks.
The food and wine are delivered to the table, diverting both of your attention momentarily.
You open the third door, as directed, to find a hexagonal room, with plush carpet, silk hangings on the walls, a velvet chair and screen, and a curtained bed. Your clothes are lying, neatly laundered, on the bed. Shorafa Pamodae is seated in the chair.
If able to reach his clothing without challenge or question he languidly disrobes and begins to unhurriedly restore his usual clothing.
"For me, of course," he grins, "because even though it's summer here, it's just a bit warmer on the south coast of Cheliax where I come from."
Braddon chews thoughtfully. "Have you actually been to this place before?"
"Where can you get decent furs in Riddleport?" asks Braddon casually.
"Don't know," Lexy shrugs. "Nowhere in Leeward District, that's for sure. Probaby up in Windward where the rich folk live."
"Have you actually been to this place before?"
"No," she giggles. "Isn't it exotic? I can't believe I'm eating a meal all the way from the southern continent!"
"No," she giggles. "Isn't it exotic? I can't believe I'm eating a meal all the way from the southern continent!"
Braddon rolls his eyes but can't help smiling at Lexy's delight.
"I can't believe it either," he smirks, before feeding her some of his tenderloin of auroch."So, where to next? Lose money? Get drunk? Your place or mine?"
"So, where to next? Lose money? Get drunk? Your place or mine?"
"Some of all three ... four?" Lexy seems to have lost count but is game for any and all of the above.
She smiles again, leaning back in the chair. "We are natural allies, you and I, are we not? Moreso than you could have any affinity for Anton Mescher and his brand of 'justice.' The elf's predicament has no interest to you; fair enough. A favor for a favor: think what I might be in a position to do for a friend who has done what he can to return a wayward daughter to me."
At this late hour, no stores are open, but Tendal suspects that he may find some merchants of his acquaintance enjoying the entertainment in Free Coin -- and that if they are winning at the tables, they may well be in a buying mood. He and Gristav cross the Velashu and mingle at the Dragon's Hoard, where he is, indeed, able to conduct the desired business.
As Tendal is concluding his business, he and Gristav spot Braddon in the company of a pretty redhead. To Tendal, she looks only vaguely familiar, but Gristav recognizes her as the girl who stopped to speak to Braddon outside Nathanael Weatherby's office.
Braddon hands his pretty redhead a drink in a fine glass.
"I got some more of that stuff you like. With the bubbles. Elven Wine, they call it, but my mother never called it that. I think she called it Spiranta Blanka."
Braddon studies the tables.
"How are these played? I like the one with the dice."
"We do not 'have' her; though we are further steps down the road than we were last time both you and I stood in the same room. That information's given as neither scrap nor bargain..." flashing her a neutral glance "and I do not see a natural ally in you..." pausing for effect "I'm not even sure we pray at the same altar..."
Tendal eyes Braddon and the young lady. "I believe that we should simply wish Braddon good luck this evening, and see about our own luck at the Free Coin." Tendal says, eyeing the pair as they move up the street.
"So here are my current thoughts Gristav. Most merchants will have closed their shops for the evening, but the Free Coin will have opportunities for us to exchange our gains for coin, and perhaps other goods, if we keep our eyes open. The recent troubles and turmoil will likely have disturbed the merchants of Riddleport, and we can expect that some will be looking to improve their stocks of goods, after recent losses, and others will be seeking to depart town for other, possibly more palatable climes." Tendal pontificates as they walk.
"I would like your assistance in finding likely individuals who with we might deal. The Free Coin will be pressed with paunchy personages purchasing and palavering. A rich environment, but a challenging one."
"You shall have my support, surely.", Gristav says to Tendal, navigating into Braddon's eyeline, if not his path, so as to nod without waving, or wave without calling, depending on how distracting the lady proved to be. The man was at his leisure, and surely to be forgiven any lapse in alertness. But one had to try.
Braddon studies the tables.
"How are these played? I like the one with the dice."
"Bounder?" Lexy asks. "Yeah, that's pretty fun. Ghoulette's the best, though. Dungo is so funny! Golem's too hard; I never remember which hands are worth more than others and bet all wrong."
Tendal hears a familiar voice urging onlookers to place their bets from within a crowd just past the casino's bar and realizes that Liry is working tonight with her Ghoulette wheel.
"Yeah, that's pretty fun. Ghoulette's the best, though. Dungo is so funny!"
"Well, let's watch some Ghoulette. There's even a couple of my friends there."
Braddon shuffles Lexy across to them."Gristav, Tendal. This is Lexy."
"Miss", Gristav greets, genuinely genial. "Are we four, then?", he asks of all, then says to Braddon, "We'll owe you, at least a round...", and then to Braddon and Lexy, "For intruding, on your twosomeness."
Lexy seems a little in awe of Tendal. "Oh, um, Mr. Deverin," she fumbles her wineglass from one hand to the other, unsure whether to offer a handclasp or a curtsey, and doing a little of both. "Pleased to meet you."
Braddon rolls his eyes and puts an arm around Lexy.
"Mister... um... Deverin is, like, helping Saul run things."
Braddon puts his lips close to Lexy's ear.
"We call him Fancypants."
A slow smile broke across Tendal's face at Lexy's introduction. Swinging his cane up under his arm, he took her hand and lightly touched his lips to its back as he bowed.
"Delighted to make your acquaintance Madame Lexy. I wish you great luck this evening among the games of chance. I would wish you a pleasant evening as well, but as you have Mr. Hurst as your companion, your enjoyment of the evening is all but assured." he says as he straightened, oblivious to the whispered comment.
"Now, please excuse me. I need to visit the Ghoulette table for a few moments."
Tendal moved through the crowd like a fish through water, parting the small clusters and knots until he found himself at the gambling table, a knot of apprehension growing in his chest, unbidden. What if he was mistaken, and it wasn't Liry? It had been a few days since they had last seen one another, was she still interested? Was he still interested? This feeling, these events, were so close to what had happened last time in Magnimar...and yet.
I am of meager means, possibly heir to nothing but what I carry, my intellect and exquisite fashion sense, and she has been interested in me to date. It is only that lack of material prospects that allows me to trust her intentions...
And there she was, busy with the gamblers at the table, still beautiful, still sharp of wit and word as she harangued the customers. Tendal waited, smiling, for her to look up.
Lexy blushes a little as Tendal kisses her hand.
"We call him Fancypants."
"Oh, I don't know how you dare," she whispers back. "They say he killed so many men in Magnimar he had to get out of town and start over again in Riddleport. It's because of him that Old Stumpy ... Saul, I mean, had so little trouble with his Gold Goblin; people didn't want to tangle with 'Magnimar' Deverin. Then his new capp leaves town, and Saul closes up shop.... Sorry, you said that wasn't true. But people said it was: that Old Stumpy was scared without his big city capp and cashed out and left town while the getting was good."
In the midst of the press, Liry is at work behind her table, spinning her wheel with its red- and black-painted spokes. In the middle is Dungo, behind the protective bars of its cage; the ghoul's head glowers hungrily around itself at the living figures of the crowd. As the wheel slows to a stop at the spoke labeled "Courage," Dungo fixes its eyes on an onlooker and comments acerbically, "Ah, here's a sailor who doesn't know the meaning of the word 'fear' -- of course, he doesn't know the meaning of most words, including 'and' and 'the'!"
The crowd roars, the insulted sailor as loudly as any of them, as his mates slap his shoulder in congratulations. "'Dja hear that? Dungo insulted me. '"And" and "the"!'" he chortles.
Liry steps on a lever that lowers the inner ring of the wheel and lets the chips slide into a coffer beneath the table while she distributes winnings to those who bet on "Courage."
"All right, lads and lubbers," she announces chipperly, "Dungo's not done, not with so much comedic material in the crowd tonight! Place your bets! Who's next, and what will he zing him for?" Glancing up, she meets Tendal's gaze for an electic moment; a slight flush passes over her face before she continues her patter. "Come on, lads! It's Ghoulette! Brave Dungo's withered tongue and walk away rich!"
Tendal, still smiling, turns away from the table, and back to the crowd.
Liry has her work this evening, and I have mine.
Who here is flush with cash and ready to make a deal... he thinks to himself as he scans the crowd, walking back to Gristav, Braddon and Lexy.
"Gristav. Do you see anyone prolifigate with wealth this evening? We need to find those with free coin." he asks, pitching his voice to be covered by the crowd.
Braddon waves goodbye to Tendal and Gristav.
"Don't worry, Lexy. I'll keep you safe from 'Magnimar'. Let's move on while they pontificate prolific profligates or whatever. Sheesh."
Braddon steers Lexy away from the suave sophisticates.
"Wow, people spread some dumb rumours. What do they say about me?"
Tendal, still smiling, turns away from the table, and back to the crowd.
Liry has her work this evening, and I have mine.
[dice=know merchant, likely marks, I mean customers]1d20+6
Who here is flush with cash and ready to make a deal... he thinks to himself as he scans the crowd, walking back to Gristav, Braddon and Lexy.
"Gristav. Do you see anyone prolifigate with wealth this evening? We need to find those with free coin." he asks, pitching his voice to be covered by the crowd.
"You're certainly more learned than I, in matters mercantile. But if I may, praise and insult you at once, you've never done it for your supper, and I have. So, while I may lack the polish of your dentrificed smile, I might have a bit" - Gristav managed not to pause to appreciate his pun - "of an edge to offer."
Leaning a bit closer to Tendal, gesturing as if to indicate the dress of the games' hostesses, the butter-thing crawled a moment onto Tendal, before flitting back to Gristav, who had scarcely paused for breath in his considered coaching. "Look to displayed riches - you're not such a fool as to only see the sparkling ring, a dark, fine cloth is also within your understanding, the proper set of well-made boots, the crisp of a cuff, that's never been rolled... Take your time, we're in no rush."
"Then, having seen what might be seen, reflect on what you know. Even if you've nothing on a particular person, you still know much, of how personhood works, of how the insects of this hive run their roles. Perhaps you find an orbiting drone, on a queen or a prince, and approach the lesser..."
Tendal looks around with eyes, pitched, so to speak, to hear a slightly different tune.
"Wow, people spread some dumb rumours. What do they say about me?"
"I haven't heard anyone say anything about you at all," Lexy replies absently. "You shouldn't feel bad about it," she hastens to add. "People don't usually talk about people who aren't important. I mean...," she winces and screws up her face as she attempts to rephrase her answer in a more flattering way. "Look at us girls at the House. Everyone knows Lil and whispers about her because she got a man killed. I don't think anyone gossips about the rest of us at all, and I'm glad. People only talk about people who are ... notorious for one reason or another," she decides. "If I found out people were talking about me, I'd be nervous. You're a lot better off not attracting that much attention in Riddleport."
"See how clever you are? Those guys who attacked the Goblin on opening night- dead. Lil's secret friend- locked up. The horrible halflings- also dead or gone. We keep our heads down and we'll be fine."
Braddon strokes her cheek.
"Next?"