Muddy-minded, I sat in the bar in the Petal District of Absalom. A stack of silver weights numbering in the teens stood proudly in my vision, waiting for the waitress to retrieve them. I watched her hips sway around the table, having thoughts that made me think that my baser desires shouldn’t hit before breakfast.
She took the stack of coins and counted them while I kept my head still. “Rough night, huh?”
“I never slept. I thought I found a good deal when the innkeeper up the road said a few pennies would bed me for the night.” I sat upright, taking in her features. “In the middle of the night, the people in the next room began their activity and I found how thin the walls actually were. I found myself at the docks watching the sunrise.”
“What’s your name?” She asked, her auburn locks spilling off her shoulders as she leaned down.
“Able. Do you have rooms to let here?”
The smells from the kitchen were wonderful and overpowering the saltwater that had up until now clouded my nostrils. The hanging doors swung with the bustling activity of breakfast.
“Mister Able, we do have rooms here.”
“Price for a room, breakfast, and tip in your hands. Is that fair?”
She halved the stack and set one of the halves back on the table. “That is fair.”
“I need it for a few nights while my companions finish their business. The city has a lot for their needs and all I require is sleep and a few hours stretching before I head to Blackblades.”
She regarded me coolly. Great, you’re an adventurer. One of those people. Retaking the stack of coins and placing them in her apron she headed to the kitchen.
My head turned to see a group of individuals enter the inn. In their armor and with no peacebonds on their weapons, I felt that lump rise in my throat.
The largest of them scanned the room to see if anyone would meet his gaze. Most of the folks in here were merchants or others trying to ply their trade. His armor was scratched from numerous scraps he had been in. He just looked like trouble.
The two women following him were of the same stale attitude. The attitude that they could do what they wanted, however they pleased. One was an Elven priestess of Calistria by her vestments. One looked like a sell-sword from Taldor. The two men following them were stocky but looked more like arcanists than anything else.
I looked over my left shoulder to see a tall thin woman approaching my table. Her manner of dress in this facility made me think that she was out of place. She was nobility or had intentions on marrying one. A bandana wrapped around her head kept her dark curls close to her neck.
“Able Vostich, how are you today?”
“Fatigued.”
She sat across from me and smoothed her purple dress down while meeting my eyes. “I heard your band returned to town.” Her bracelets looked like the type that the wandering folk of Varisia favored.
“Riva and Densmore are turning to their masters to deal with the last venture’s questions.” I sat upright and looked at her. “Who are you and how in the Nine Hells did you find me here?”
“Caryn of House Kethlin. I heard that you rutted wherever you found purchase and a few Forthright Men saw you enter here after daybreak.”
What type of woman would associate herself with the Forthright Men?
“What brings you here, Caryn?” I watched the Adventuring Group of Rather Unpleasantness finally sit. It looked like they were having a discussion on who got to sit with their back to the wall.
I could only imagine that group of rabble having great luck as bandits on a road only to get back into civilization and have issues with a rotating pecking order. The ladies knew that what they possess is lined with platinum and the priestess rocked her chair back on two legs to rest her neck and back on the wall.
“I have an invitation for you to come with me.”
Well that isn’t what I want to hear! I just paid for a room for half the week and this saucy tart saunters in and expects me to follow her anywhere in this blasted city! Just because she is from one of the noble houses that I actually like, she needs to know that I’m not really into the idea of a lot of travel for the moment.
“The Grand Dance Hall of Kortos is where I am taking you.”
Maybe the idea of sleep can wait. At the very least, I won’t have to deal with the Adventuring Bandits of Rather Unpleasant Fellows.
The Grand Dance Hall of Kortos is one of those places that when you’re in Absalom you absolutely must experience. It is a theatre where you can enjoy the local spectacles of athleticism in its finest choreographed moments. Lord Punjeer runs the business and aside from his talent for recruiting the best in the Inner Sea, he makes even more money from the transactions that take place under his roof.
Caryn grabbed my hand as we stepped off the steeds she rented.
I looked down to see her warm hand wrapped in mine. A rather bold move, but she seems to know more than I do at this moment.
“Hold me, Able.”
I adjusted my sword on my belt so I didn’t lance her unpleasantly in the side. “Want to let me in on what you plan on doing, this sounds more like Harlequin adventures or Calistrian romances gone terribly wrong.”
“Just do as I ask.”
I held her, she was just a few inches shorter than me. At least she smelled better than I did in the early morning.
A few incantations later, letting her hands gesture about and phrases in my left ear, we teleported in to the Grand Hall itself. I had a rather unpleasant feeling in my stomach, my bowels wanting to feast on something and having the issue at hand being teleported around a few hundred feet at a time, it made me step away from Caryn.
“You okay?” It was the first time I heard concern in her voice. Or contempt.
I nodded and she led me to a table for six. I noticed that we were probably on the second or third balcony. The troupe below were Vudrani dancers of impressive grace. Bathed in the round open air amphitheatre we were immediately attended to with a bottle of wine and various finger foods.
As soon as my rump hit the chair, my hands were on the finger food. Spiced with various red peppers, the pork had a bit of bite to it.
Caryn knew someone important to be up here. The higher the balcony, the more influence and coin was generally bartered about. This was a great start to a relationship, I had to admit.
Caryn poured herself a glass and offered me some of it.
“Pass,” I mumbled around the ribs.
“Get up!” Caryn stood as four individuals gathered about the table.
“Caryn, I see you found your man.” A large rolling voice came from a large Taldan man. His sideburns were huge porkchops of hair, almost obscuring his mouth. “Reginald the Fair.” He extended his hand and noticed my Numerian steel on my side.
“Able Vostich.” I could feel a bit of meat betwixt my teeth. Dammit!
“I know. I sent her for you.” Reginald gestured to his companions, two men and a lady. “Taryn, Caryn’s brother is on the left, Garnett Slivers in the middle, and my wife, Alyssa.”
While I was I shook hands with the two men with strong grips, then adjusted it when Alyssa’s hand was in mine. “I’m pleased to meet you all.” I fished the troublesome meat from my incisors. “Sorry about that.”
Reginald’s eyes went back to my sword. “You’re fine. I assume we interrupted your breakfast, didn’t we, Able?”
“As a matter of fact,” I smiled.
“Sit, folks. Let’s sit.”
They made small talk about the dancing. Reginald’s eyes lit up when he looked at his wife, I estimated he was in his late fifties as was she. Both of them had accessorized their jewelry with topaz and gold finery.
As I finished the pork, I watched as Garnett unrolled a map.
My eyes recognized it almost immediately, and Caryn was paying much attention to my expression and breathing habit while he produced it.
“Able, are you familiar with Droskar’s Crag?”