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As Jim looks around for someone in charge, he hears a piercing whistle from over by the bird corral and sees a figure wave him over. As he comes closer he notes that the birds are really tall. His eyes would be about wishbone level with the beasts. The whistler is a scarred Qadiran woman. "You're late," she announces. "I don't need no excuses. You get to start with the axe beaks. They are the bosses favorite pets and you'll be expected to fight along side 'em. That means they got to accept you and they don't like no chickens! Ha!" Her smile drops back into what you take to be her more characteristic scowl. "You look like chicken of the sea to me. You gotta establish dominance, or you gonna lose your peckers. Ha!"
"Let's see what you got. Over the fence! Get in there!"
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Kaul affixes his beadies upon the mercenaries training, then grins maliciously...
Hur. Waters be chummed nicely...
At the poultry slight, the brute bosun hacks a laugh and moves forward to climb the fence;
"Chicken o' the sea... Funny hur-hur. You want 'em in one piece or a leg each? Won't be much left to fight alongside once Kauly gets choppin'..."
"You kill any of the Boss' birds, he ain't going to be happy," the woman warns.
Kaul pauses from his clamber with a dull look o'er his scarred features;
"So what the feck we doin' with 'em?"
"So what the feck we doin' with 'em?"
"What I said, youre gonna be working with them so get on their good side or at least establish dominance. Take one for a ride if you really want to impress me."
Kaul shoots a look to the others... then flashes a mako grin;
"Hur. Dominance... Hur. Right ye are..."
Dingus looks around for a food vendor... or alcohol if available. He's planning on really enjoying his "Day Off".
The corral is about thirty feet in diameter with a six-foot high split rail fence around it. Seven of the big birds are within. Some scratch at the sand, others strut about, and some stare off into the distance.
Unfortunately, Dingus finds no food stands or concessions open on the non-event day. Though there is plenty of seating available as he peruses the empty stands.
Kaul shrugs and climbs effortlessly over the fence into the enclosure...
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Kaul easily goes up and over the fence. He has the attention of all the birds, but only three approach fixing their beady black eyes on him.
Hatchet belted for the time being Kaul squints at the towering birds and moves toward them, claw arm cocked should defensive offence be required;
"Hur... Caw-caw... You birdies goin' tae behave?"
One of the birds Kaul is approaching gives a deep trill and hisses. The other two take a few strides to each side so that he is encircled. Kaul doesn't take this as a good sign.
The brute bosun chuckles nervously, and yells to the scarified bird handler;
"Hur. Oi! Pretty face... Iffin' ye don't want yer birdies endin' up on the cooky's spit then call 'em off..."
His hand reaches for the hatchet at his waist... blood iron claw at the ready...
Jim vaults the fence effortlessly and lands on the other side.
He glares at the trilling bird. "HOY! Back down sharpish!"
"Hur. Oi! Pretty face... Iffin' ye don't want yer birdies endin' up on the cooky's spit then call 'em off..."
"Boss will put you on a spit if you kill any of those birds. Doesn't sound like you're up to this job." she shouts back. Fortunately, Jim awakes from his day dream and leaps into action, somehow vaulting off the top rail and landing on his feet next to Kaul with a sharp shout. The big birds startle at the sudden motion and noise. Retreating a half dozen paces and giving angry shrieks. They eye the pair, but keep their distance.
Without taking his eyes off the great galliforms, Jim calls back to the woman. "So, I'm not exactly up on the finer points of bird handling. How do they figure out amongst themselves who's top, ah, murder chicken?"
"They act a bit like wolves, but are even harder to tell apart. The one that acts like the alpha is the alpha. That'd be Chopper. The one with the most initiative, you might say." The one that first took notice of Kaul stays closer than the other two and scratches at the sand while clacking its beak at the hominids in the corral.
Jim nods. "Chopper's the boss, got it. If they're like wolves, then I should be able to show it I'm the boss without killing it...Kaul, you have a sap on you?"
Dingus digs through his belongings looking for a snack since there is none here. He finds a bread crust, and a soft apple and makes the most of what he has.
Jim nods. "Chopper's the boss, got it. If they're like wolves, then I should be able to show it I'm the boss without killing it...Kaul, you have a sap on you?"
The wrangler chuckles. "You antagonize them enough, you'll never be able to turn your back on them. You really don't know how to interact with animals, do you?" She vaults up the side of the corral and whistles.
Chopper struts over to the wrangler with one eye never leaving Jim. Three of the other birds follow. The animal handler tosses them something that they gulp down and then hops on one of the birds. Using her knees, she leads the axebeak in a circle around the ring and the dismounts on to the fence again. "You all can get out now before someone gets hurt."
Dingus returns to the man he paid for entrance... anger evident on his face.
"Hey! I want my silver back. Nothing happened except some woman whistled at some birds. I didn't even get to see any blood".
Intimidate.
Kaul eyes the birds, then makes for the fence;
"Got that right. Them birdies are lucky Chopper weren't able to meet Lopper..."
"Hey! I want my silver back. Nothing happened except some woman whistled at some birds. I didn't even get to see any blood".
The guard looks also angry but complies. "I told you it was just tryouts today. You weren't even supposed to go in. Take your damn coins and you won't be coming back in here!" He throws the silver on the ground outside and swings the gate closed after Dingus.
The bird wrangler shakes her head at Kaul and Jim. "Well, you better impress Jaravo or I don't see you getting a job here. Make sure you're on time tomorrow, huh?"
Kaul shrugs his no-neck;
"Feck yer job. Wranglin' oversized roosters. Ye want blood... let me know. Otherwise Ol' Kauly got better things to do..."
The thug lumbers out of the arena, balefully staring at the guard haranguing Dingus as he goes...
Jim nods and leaves, making a mental note of the name. Through the rest of the day, he frequents taverns other than the Golden Goblin, keeping his ears open.
After the weird thing with the birds, the mates belatedly decide to try and get a little information for a change. Kaul sniffs the air and performs a bit of thuggish triangulation. Everything on the other side of the river looked too fancy for a street level goon. Upriver is likely firmly under Overlord Cromarcky's thumb. Which leaves the Leeward, Wharf, and Rotgut District. Of those, Kaul thinks the Wharf is neutral territory and the Leeward probably divided amongst the major players which leaves the Rotgut for the leftovers that likely know a thing or two, but aren't loyal to any particular crimeboss.
Jim stays closer to the arena figuring some of the workers would opt for a convenient location to drink after work. Sure enough, he finds a small grog house promisingly called the Arena Bar across the street. Inside the dilapidated tavern, he overhears a pair of sellswords that apparently didn't make the cut. Over several rounds of drinks, Jim learns that Jaravo is a former gladiator and according the resentful mercenaries, he is more impressed with showmanship than effective fighting.
Well that was rude".
"I'm gonna have a word with your supervisor"!
Dingus wanders about outside the arena hoping to run into one of his shipmates... then tags along with whichever he sees first. If none he takes off towards the nearest library to read up on a few things... like the Freeport local newspapers.
Dingus is so wrapped up in arguing with the guard that he loses track of Jim and Kaul. This leads him to briefly wonder where Corliss ended up and it does occur to him that the Union recruiter suggested that Dingus ask about a crafting job over at Clegg Zincher's tenement.
As for newspapers, he hasn't seen any and honestly, Riddleport doesn't look nearly as cosmopolitan as Freeport. There are all those Cypermages around though so it's more likely there is a library somewhere.
Oh well. I'm sure they'll be fine without me to keep an eye on them... He then remembers the last time Kaul and Jim went on without him and begins to panic asking people if they've seen them with vivid probably exaggerated descriptions.
If no luck running one of his shipmated down Dingus would head towards Zincher's tenement to see if he could find some work...
Dingus startles several people that seem more interested in getting away from him than answering his questions, but he does spot Jim through the window of a tavern across the way from the arena. Jim certainly doesn't look to be in any trouble. He's just sitting there quietly sipping on a beer and apparently listening to the conversation around him. Dingus isn't sure that he should bother him.
After his listening tour, the Taldan settles his tab and rejoins the party. "Well, I found out a couple of things. First, the Arena Bar pours a decent mug. Second, the gent who auditions fighters likes showoffs. I think I can do a bit of that, and Kaul can scare the sh1te out of any number of foes--probably go over pretty well."
Dingus is about to pound on the window and disrupt Jim's eavesdropping when he hears Corliss call out his name. The pirate priest doesn't offer an explanation about what happened with Safarzi, but after a brief consultation with Dingus, seems keen to check out the tenement gig.
Further inland and near the road that leads through the eastern crag to the marshes outside town, is a foreboding townhouse five stories tall. It is made of stone and hefty timbers with a steeply gabled rooftop featuring a widow’s walk. Dozens of metal-grilled windows, many with closed shutters, provide a well-defended view over Riddleport. The pair walk up to the metal door with a knocker shaped like an axebeak's head.
"Yeah...maybe we'll get lucky and learn somethin' 'bout ol' Zigg Clencher himself!"
Dingus stands back from the door a bit and uses "Mage Hand" to activate the door knocker.
The knocker's beak thunks against the metal plate on the door and a spy window opens above the knocker. "Yeah, who are you?" asks the bearded face within.
Satisfied with his layman's lay o' the land Kaul makes for the Rotgut District to dig more into the crimelords and anything he can exploit in bloody revenge...
Kaul wanders over to the Rotgut District and a squalid neighborhood pinched between the eastern cliffs, the water and a smelter of some sort that adds a chemical tinge the miasma of trash, sewage, and death that visibly blankets the area.
He ducks into a likely dive, The Rusty Hook, to find a dim and filthy tavern with about a half dozen patrons scattered about and shouts from a noisy group in the backroom. He gets appraising looks from several of the regulars as he goes up to the bar. A haggard toothless woman crouches on a stool and offers him sour beer or the house hootch which goes by the name of Tarnish Remover.
"Umm. We were told to come here in looks for discreet employment in some crafting opportunities. Is this the Zencher residence"?
Bluff (We're really useful).
Kaul orders a sour beer with a Tarnish Remover chaser.
With a jigsaw grin he pushes some silver and copper o'er the toothless server before eyeing up the clientele;
"Hur. I be new in town... Lookin' fir someone to give the lowdown on Riddleport... Who I might speak to 'bout employment an' such..."
"Zincher. If nothing else, get that right. Alright, come in." The little spy door closes and the big door creaks open.
Inside is a large lobby and dining room. A hallway opens across the room to the north. There are stairs leading up just past a pair of closed double doors. A swinging door is on the east wall leads to what sounds like a kitchen. Other than a hearth and some tapestries showing arena scenes, there are several long tables and chairs though there is no one currently in the room other than the large, bearded doorman.
He leads you to the nearby double doors and opens without knocking. Inside is what looks like a training room that has been converted into a workshop. Crafters of various sorts are active in three main areas. In one corner a pair of scholarly types are forming sigils in the air as another circles around them deep in thought.
Elsewhere, carpenters finish what appears to be an ornate altar to Besmara. The third area appears to be a small library with a desk where a severe looking woman in dark blue robes, round glasses, and hair pulled back into a tight bun is reading. A soon as the door opens, the woman hurries over frowning. "I told you that we weren't to be disturbed, Jarnad. This is supposed to be a secured area. Who are these people?" she gestures at Dingus and Corliss with annoyance.
Kaul gets a gummy smile and the old woman ostentatiously drops the coins into one of the deep purse-like cups of her bra. "Now what sort of employment might ye be looking for? I take it yer not interested in dock work."
Corliss can't quite hide a grimace when Jarnad pronounces the crimelord's name.
Zincher! he thinks, trying to impress the name firmly into his shaky memory. Clunk Zincher.
He's drawn like a moth to a flame by the altar to Besmara. "Excellent work, lads! Top-notch!"
He considers kissing the boss-lady's fingers until he gets a gander at her sour face. "Corliss Blackboots, at yer service, milady," he begins, giving the woman a half-bow of his head. "New in town; just came from one o' the warehouses. Lookin' fer work that might be more...rewardin'...in the lucrative sense o' the word. Also, I have a touch o' healin' courtesy o' the Pirate Queen, in case anyone here's suffered an accident or the like."
The woman frowns, "Accidents? What have you heard?"
"Nothing, dear lady. And I didn't mean to seemin'ly impugn the safety o' yer enterprise. I was merely lettin' ye know that I be capable o' healin' magic, should such a mishap ever occur on the premesis."
Corliss looks over the large, overly ornate altar that features a carved and painted skull and crossbones as big as a human surrounded by a halo of real blades and garishly colored parrots. He does find it a little odd that so much effort is going into an altar for Besmara who prefers sailors tend to their ships rather than religious paraphernalia.
He walks around it as he answers the overseer and no sooner mentions the word 'mishap' when one of the cutlasses afixed to the altar suddenly swivels and arcs toward the priest cutting his shoulder quite close to his neck. There is a ratcheting sound and the sword resets,