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"Well't's bett'r'n knock'n on Smenk's door," Broccan replies to Aläis with a shrug. "Nev'r work'd for Moonmeadow, eh'course, bu'dit sounds like y'know yer way 'round out there." Broccanese: "Well, it's better than knocking on Smenk's door. I never worked for Moonmeadow, of course, but it sounds like you know your way around out there."
"We'll get't' th' bott'm o' this, n' fin'dout wha'tappn'd t' yer boss." Broccan says, rising and offering his hand. "Work'n folks got'teh eat, n' sum'eh these fat-cats need' t' be cut down t' size't seems." Broccanese:
"We'll get to the bottom of this, and find out what happned to your boss. Working folks need to eat, and some of these fat-cats need to be cut down to size, it seems." Whether or not she accepts his hand, Broccan gives her a respectful nod and moves to take his leave. Les'go fine th'others," he says to Edrukk.
"When'd yer boss go missin'?" Broccan asks. "Any'o ye know where't 'appen'd?" Broccanese: "When did your boss go missing? Do any of you know where it happened?"
Meh ol' Ma's gott'eh eat, too," Broccan adds in a hopeful, helpful tone. "She's not bu' skin'n bones's'it's."
Broccanese: "My old Ma's got to eat, too. She's nothing but skin and bones, as it is."
Broccan raises his hands in a conciliatory manner. "No disrespect'n 'tended, M'am. Per'aps we're gett'n off'n th' wrong foot'ere. Can I buy you'n your boys'eh round'eh drinks as a mean've apologizin' fer m' lack o' manners?" Broccanese: "No disrespect intended, M'am. Perhaps we're getting off on the wrong foot here. Can I buy you and your boys a round of drinks as a means of apologizing for my lack of manners?"
Broccan gets a sense that the Carters are a bit paranoid, and any sniff of a lie might go badly. He decides to be as upfront as possible. "Thanks fer talk'n t'us'n short notice," Broccan says, attempting a firendly breaking of the ice. "It's good t'be work'n with hon'st, reliable folk, 'nstead'o right bastards like Smenk'n' 'is boys." Broccanese:
"Thanks for talking to us on short notice. It's good to be working with honest, reliable folk, instead of right bastards like Smenk and his boys."
"Maybe start like we're look'n t'hire'm, then get t' chatt'n. Maybe buy'em a drink?" Broccan offers with a shrug that clearly indicates that he's new to the art of investigation. Broccanese: "Maybe start like we're looking to hire them, then get to chatting. Maybe buy them a drink?"
"Les go 'ave'eh chat wi'the carters," Broccan says to Edrukk, finishing his drink with a last gulp. "Maybe they'll tell's sum'thin'." Broccanese: "Let's go have a chat with the carters. Maybe they'll tell us something."
"We cou' dav'eh 'noth'r chat wi' Kull'n'n'is boys. If Smenk's mov'n lots'eh stuff, they migh' be th' mussl' 'ees usin'," Broccan suggests. Broccanese: "We could have another chat with Kullen and his boys. If Smenk's moving lots of stuff, they might be the muscle he's using."
"We know Smenks'nvolved," Broccan replies. "I don'exactly like th'idea, but we migh' need t' follow'm a bit'r maybe snoop aroun'is mine'n' prop'rty t' see if we can fine' any'thin'." Broccanese:
"W know Smenk's involved. I don't exactly like the idea, but we might need to follow him a bit, or maybe snoop around his mine and property to see if we can find anything." Broccan's expression is one of resignation. It's clear he doesn't like this idea, but seems convinced it's what will need to happen at some point.
"Th' boys't th' Feral Dog said ol' Smenk cut thei'rations'n raised prices't'is store. They also said'is chief'eavy Goshawk's gone missin'. Thas' gott'eh jibe wi' what Miss Ilthane tol'us." Broccanese: The boys at the Feral Dog said Old Smenk cut their rations and raised prices at his store. They also said his chief heavy, Goshawk's gone missing. That's got to jibe with what Miss Ilthane told us."
"Was'she talk'n 'bout Smenk'n th' other mineboss's 'old'n feasts for their miners? Why'd they do that? Moonmeadow's th'only one oos ever done'at," Broccan says, in a town that sounds like he believes he clearly misheard the conversation. 'n everyone knows'ts 'cause Moonmeadow don' pay'is miners'n coin." Broccanese: "Was she talking about Smenk and the other Minebosses holding feasts for their miners? Why would they do that? Moonmeadow's the only one who's ever done that. And everyone know that's because Moonmeadow doesn't pay his miners in coin."
"Any ideas'n 'ow to get Kata'way from'er withou' bring'n Smenk down on our 'eads?" Broccanese: "Any ideas of how to get Kata away from her without bringing Smenk down on our heads?"
Broccan turns and walks over to the bar, seeing that Venelle has followed, he says to her quietly, "She works fer Smenk, th'one talk'n t' Kata. Don' know'r name, bu'she's'is eyes'n'ears." Broccanese: "She works for Smenk, the one talking to Kata. Don't know her name, but she's his eyes and ears."
Broccan freezes when he notices that the woman sitting with Kata is Smenk's assistant. He shifts his position a bit, turning slightly away lowering his head, allowing his shaggy hair to fall across his face. "Wan'eh drink?" he says in a muffled voice to Edrukk and Venelle, much lower than his typical speaking voice. "I'll buy th' firs' round."
"Fine by me," Broccan replies, continuing into The Emporium. When he gets inside, he very purposefully looks around for Kata and Venelle amongst the crowd.
"Treas'r'unt'rs, from watch'ee said," Broccan replies. "They wen'into th' Stirgenest 'n din't fine annethin'." Broccan stifles a chuckle at the name of the cairn. Whoever pointed them to it had a sick sense of humor. "Thas why she came look'n fer me. She'd'eard'I'd found a fortune'n'gold. Thas when'I set'r straight." Broccanese: "Treasure hunters, from what she said. They went into the Stirgenest and didn't find anything. (chuckle) That's why she came looking for me. She'd heard I'd found a fortune in gold. That's when I set her straight."
"Shou' we make'r'ntroductions t'er firends'r jus' keep walk'n?" Broccan whispers to Edrukk as they cross the Square. Broccanese: "Should we make our introductions to her friends or just keep walking?"
Broccan gulps down the last swallow-and-a-half of his ale, and sets down the mug with a hard rap on the bar top. He waves down the bar keep, and settle their tab with the gold coin, taking whatever change is proffered. "Les' get mov'n then," he says to Edrukk. "Bes' t' get'evryone work'n on th' same vein." Broccanese: "Let's get moving then. Best to get everyone working the same vein."
"Alais'n'Briar'r hang'n wi' th' rich'elves. I dinn'eh think we'll be greet'd warmly. Kata'n'Venelle'r 'cross th' Square'n th' Emporium. There's less hassle meet'n'up wi'them. Wha'd'ye'think?" Broccan suggests to Edrukk. Broccanese: "Alais and Briar are hanging out with the rich elves. I do not think we'll be greeted warmly. Kata and Venelle are across the Square in the Emporium. There's less hassle meeting up with them. What do you think?"
Broccan gives a chuckle and grin, then flags down the barkeep to refill their mugs. "We shou' fine th'others'n let'm know what we've foun'dout. Bu' les' fin'ish these firs!" Broccanese: "We should find the others and let them know what we've found out. But let's finish these first!"
"Th' lass bought fer'us both," Broccan replies, tapping the sail on the bartop, "so ye c'n'ave yer two'n'eh few more'f ye like." He takes a sip from his own mug, then continues. "She was ask'n'bout our adventur'n. She says sum'n tole'r we'd found'eh fortune'n one'eh th' cairns. I tole'r we found th' bones've'eh lost friend'n laid'r t' rest. That was good'eh'nuff fer'er t' layoff'n leave me be." Broccanese: "The lass bought for us both, so you can have your two, and a few more, if you like. She was asking about our adventuring. She says someone told her we'd found a fortune in one of cairns. I told her we found the bones of a lost friend, and laid her to rest. That was good enough for her to lay off, and leave me be."
Broccan drinks and waits for Edrukk to return. They needed to decide if they were going to try a dig up any more leads or try to meet up with the others and share what they'd found out so far.
"Much'obliged, Mis' Tirra," Broccan replies, and raises a tankard to her. "Best'o'luck t'you'n yer friends." Broccan watches her leave, and once he feels reasonably certain she has left the tavern, he slowly exhales in relief. He waits patiently for Edrukk to come back, ready to fill his friend in on the exchange and to buy him a round on the coin of the overly inquisitive elvish lass.
Merry Christmas!
Broccan takes a drink and gives an exasperated sigh. "I dinnae know wha'scutl'butt'ye been lis'nin teh," Broccan replies, "but'ere's wha't'app'ned. A frien'eh mine'n'I wen'tin'teh a cairn where're'eh 'nother frien'd'd gone miss'n'n back when we'ws kids. We knew she w's dead, bu' we need'd t' find'r bones'n put'r t' rest. We got'eh few oth'r friends t' go wi'thus 'n case we ran'n t' trouble. We foun'der bones'n took'm 'cross th' lake t' be buried. No piles'eh coin'r gems. Sorry t' disappoint ye." Broccanese: "I don't know what scuttlebutt you've been listening to, but here's what happened. A friend of mine and I went into a cairn where another friend had gone missing back when we were kids. We knew she was dead, but we needed to find her bones and put her to rest. We got a few other friends to go with us un case we ran into trouble. We found her bones, and took them across the lake to be buried. No piles of coins or gems. Sorry to disappoint you."
"'f y've been talk'n t' folks 'roun'ere, they might'eh mentioned I make money bare-knuckle box'n'in'ere from time't'time. They migh'also'eh mention'd'I beat th' local champ just'eh few days'eh'go..." Broccanese: "If you've been talking to folks around here, they might have mentioned I make money bare-knuckle boxing in here from time to time. They might also have mentioned I beat the local champ just a few days ago..."
Wha' make'syah think that? An'ev'n'f I was, y' still 'aven't said why'ts yer bus'ness," Broccan replies. Broccanese: "What makes you think that? And even if I was, you still haven't said why it's your business."
"Why d' y' care'f I dun'neh work'n th' mines ev'ryday?" Broccan asks, his tone carrying a slight, uncharacteristic note of warning. "Folks 'round'ere don' go ask'n'bout'oth'r folks bus'ness uninvited." Broccanese: "Why do you care if I do not work in the mines every day? Folks around here don't go asking about other folks business uninvited."
"What'r y'ask'n, Miss? Cou' ye speak more plainly? I'm jus'eh miner, not'eh man'eh fancy school'n," Broccan replies. Remembering the reproach he received from Allustan, he makes a point not to look down or away from her gaze, but he likely can't do much about the involuntary flush of embarrassment at being addressed so directly...by an elf-maid, no less! Broccanese: "What are you asking, Miss? Could you speak more plainly? I'm just a miner, not a man of fancy schooling."
Broccan nods, clinks his mug with Edrukk's and returns back towards the bar. He begins talking, though not to any one in particular. "M' old Pa used t' say't th' world wen't'th'byss when Aroden died. E' said th' other gods jus' couldn' keep th' evil down like e' did. I'm no priest, but'e migh'ta had'eh point." Broccanese: "My old Pa used to say that the world went to the Abyss when Aroden died. He said the other gods just couldn't keep the evil down like he did. I'm no priest, but he might have had a point."
Broccan turns his head away from the knife-thrower, and whispers to Edrukk, "Shou' we walkou't'n see'f she'll follow'r jus' walkup t'er'n see what 'app'ns?" Broccanese whisper: "Should we walk out, and see if she'll follow, or just walk up to her and see what happens?"
Smenk, Smenk, and Smenk again. It all keeps coming back to Smenk! Broccan thinks to himself, sighing in frustration. He makes his way over to Edrukk, knocks mugs with him, leans-in and whispers, "I hate t' think'f't, bu' we're gonn'eh have't talk t' Smenk." Broccanese: "I hate to think of it, but we're going to have to talk to Smenk."
"Any'yof'th' other mine-bosses act'n 'ornery of late?" Broccan asks. "I mean, if you 'ad yer pick, who'd y' dig for these days?" Broccanese: "Any of the other mine-bosses acting ornery of late? I mean, if you had your pick, who would you dig for these days?"
Broccan leans against the bar, and orders an ale. He then approaches one of the injured miners and asks, "Wha' didja' in? A collapse'r sumthin' like? I'd 'eard one o' th' bosses was mak'n bad decisions wi' tunnel rou's...'sat what 'appen'd?" Broccanese: [b]"What did you in? A collapse, or something like that? I'd hear one of the bosses was making bad decisions with tunnel routes....is that happened?"
Broccan nods. "I'll keep Suck'rpunch w' me," he replies, slapping the shortsword on his belt. "Nev'r though'I'd ev'r 'ave anythin' made wi' magic, much less'eh sword. I'm not leav'n it lie'n somewhere where some'n c'n come pick't up."[b] Broccanese: [b]"I'll keep Suckerpunch with me. I never thought I'd ever have anything made with magic, much less a sword. I'm not leaving it lying somewhere were someone can come pick it up."
"We c'n leave'r gear'n th' cab'n, 'r wi'm'mum," Broccan offers to Edrukk. "The cab'n's likely safer. Thieves'r rife'n th' flop'ouse." Broccanese: "We can leave or gear in the cabin or with my mum. The cabin's likely safer. Thieves are rife in the flophouse."
Broccan leans the proffered staff against the wall. 's yours'f y' wan'it," he says, matter-of-fact. "Sell'it'f y' don't." He looks to Edrukk. "We bes' be get'n t' th' Feral Dog. Chat wi' some'eh th' boys'n see what we can findout." Broccanese: "it's yours if you want it. Sell it if you don't." "We best be getting to the Feral Dog. Chat with some of the boys and see what we can find out."
Broccan looks up and meets Allustan's gaze, an amount of steel infusing both his spine and his gaze. "It's'eh gift. Fer you. Sir," he replies in an uncharacteristically clipped tone. "'s thanks f'yer 'ssist'nce."
"We can'ave'eh chat wi' th' boys down't th' Feral Dog," Broccan says to Edrukk, focused on the task at hand and momentarily forgetting he was speaking in Allustan's house without his leave to do so. He suddenly realizes his gaffe, and blushes, lowering his eyes. He turns in Allustan's direction, but does not look up. "My 'pologies, sir. I dinn'eh mean t' presume t' speak out like that. M' thanks for yer time'n fine food....um...." Broccan appears flummoxed and very uncomfortable for a moment, then reaches back to unfasten the petrified opal wood staff he found down in the cairn. He holds it out to Allustan, giving it a slight shake to indicate that he should take it.
Broccanese: "We can have a chat with the boys down at the Feral Dog." "My apologies, sir. I did not mean to presume to speak out like that. My thanks for your time and fine food...um..."
”D..Dunchad, Sir,” Broccan replies, still uncomfortable, but knowing he should respond when his betters asked him a question. He gently waves his hand to decline the cake. ”Thank y’sir, but I’m not ‘ungry.” Truth be told, the cake smelled delicious, but Broccan had no idea how to eat it without getting crumbs and icing all over the floor and himself. He felt out of place enough as it was in the great wizard’s home. It took everything in him to not simply get up and run to the door.
Broccan cringes internally, knowing he needs to speak up at this moment. "I've work'd f'r all'v'm 'cept Moonmeadow, not bein'n elf'n all, he finally replies quietly, his eyes downcast. "If th' Mayor confronts'm all't'th'same time, it'll set'm off. I'm think'n there'll be blood." He looks around to the rest of the group, but avoids Allustan's eyes. "We shou' talk t' the miners'n see'f any'f'm've seen any'thin skeejaw goin' on'n the mines." Broccanese: "I've worked for all of them except Moonmeadow, not being an elf and all. If the Mayor confronts them all at the same time, it will set them off. I think there will be blood. We should talk to the miners and see if any of them have seen anything skeejaw (out of sorts) going on in the mines."
"'s th'end o' th' world 's we know't, 'n I feel fine..." Broccan sings under his breath, followed by a resigned sigh. A moment later, he realizes he said it out loud, blushes and lowers his gaze so that his shaggy hair covers his face.
Broccan looks about anxiously when he realizes he was invited in to Allustan's home. This isn't right. I'm not supposed to be in a fine place like this. I'll break something, or track-in dirt, or leave the furniture reeking of my unwashed skin. But, he told me to come in, so I can't leave without being disrespectful. Gods, I wish I was over in the Feral Dog, downing a few. He keeps his eyes lowered, and tries not to draw too much attention to himself, hoping the smarter and more articulate of his companions carry him through this moment.
Broccan wonders to himself why Seeker doesn't want to meet Allustan.
It probably thinks he'll want to cut it up and study it.
”We been evre’wher’n thi’ splace,” Broccan comments, ”ev’n down’n th’ shi’touse. Nowhere else t’ go but back t’town’n see what’s what.” Broccanese: ”We’ve been everywhere in this place, even down in the (latrine). Nowhere else to go but back to town, and see what’s what.”
Broccan moves the piece, then nods as the sequence becomes apparent.
Frustration crosses his expression as he realizes that the last part has him stumped completely. ”Any thoughts’eh’bout th’ las’ part?” he asks Edrukk, including the rest of the group in the question with his gaze.
Broccan looks at the puzzle box, trying to determine if he sees the correct initial piece to slide to begin the pattern that would eventually open it.
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