"Excellent," Caulder replies, drawing himself up to his full height in a businesslike fashion and making sure his clothing is straightened and smooth and his holy symbol centered on his chest. It's a ritual marred only when he moves by the way he still drags his injured leg when he walks. "Darkbane? You want to do the charming thing? And you could probably stand to show a little skin."
Esmerelda flushes with a faint pink tint, but flashes a smile back at Caulder, "I would, but each time I try you throw your frightening grimace around and spoil all the charm." She nods towards the ships, "I've noticed a couple of guards patrolling, no doubt a place like this will have several more less obvious stronghands at, uhm, hand. Let's be extra cautious." This last sentence is directed at Ten and Pagrip, "We don't want to see a repeat of last times performance."
She begins to stride down the gangway towards the old warship, the Eel's End, exuding confidence and right-of-way. This is marred just before she reaches the gangway to board the ship, as a menacing looking guard stops her in her path: "Oy, what is this! Nobody enters the ship of the Spiderking unless it is cleared with me!"
"Well, then, I suggest you clear us," Caulder says mildly but with a hard look in his eye, as he restraightens his holy symbol to be more prominent. "We're from the Bank of Abadar, and we're here on official business. Now from what I've been told, the City has no complaints against your boss: he's a legitimate businessman, keeps his taxes paid and his employees in line. Hate to see that record tarnished by an upstart guard who doesn't realize who he's talking to. The authorities might decide to take a closer look at how the Spiderking is running his business; that's an awful lot of inconvenience and paperwork you'd be putting your boss in the way of. What was your name again?"
The guard thug shakes his head at Caulder, literally, as if to dislodge some fleas in his direction. "No. Official business is required to go through official channels, nobody arrives unannounced on official business at the Spiderking."
Some of the obvious and less obvious guards have taken a notice of the four and their discussion with the guard.
The guard smiles, not an altogether unfriendly sight, "But, this being Eel's End, there's always the possibility of returning a favor for a favor, right? Paying a favor in return is very Abadarian is it not?"
Pagrip glances around at the other people in the area before moving up a little closer to the guard. "Paying?" he says with a chuckle. "You think Abadarians like to pay for things? They prefer when you pay them. Me, I'm not an Abadarian. I'm just stuck working with them on this official business." He makes air quotes when saying the word, official. "I'd happily pay you, but I doubt they'd let me."
He reaches into his bag and pulls out two gold coins, which he passes to the guard. He does his best to avoid anyone other than this guard and his companions seeing that he's done so.
"So, any chance you can let me get this job over with--put me out of my misery, you might say--and let us in to see your boss?"
We needed a better cover story, Ten thought to himself, Though I doubt Caulder or Esme would voluntarily tell a lie.
The coins vanish with nary a soul being the wiser. The thug-cum-guard's expression warms up, "There, it is good to see that some people understand about the order of things here at Eel's End. I'll see the Spiderking for you, with luck you'll be granted an audience before the next hour." He turns and vanishes into the old warship.
The revelry from the Twin Tigers is obvious, as uproarious laughter and periodic shouts of victory and groans of loss ring from the gambling den. Two scantily clad girls, probably twins, walk the wooden planks fishing for a likely candidate to purchase their time. They apparently take a shine on Ten and Caulder, as they come towards the group arm-in-arm, smiling lascivious glances up and down the figures of the two men. "Candine! Look! I'll give him a free ride if he pays for you!" "Ooo! You naughty girl, he does look man enough to take on us both, how about it? You'll only need one working leg for us."
It isn't at all obvious, but Candine is a really pretty boy, rather than a girl; his natural androgyny and the choice of clothes and posture easily makes him a girl in even attentive eyes.
"Flattered, ladies," Caulder grins, "but I'm here for business, not pleasure."
"Business, yes! Sorry, ladies," Ten replied, as his cheeks reddened.
"Business first. But what men do on their off time is entirely up to them." Esme gives both Ten and Caulder a scathing look. She waves away the floozies "Now be off with you. I am sure men will find you after our business is conducted."
Pagrip chuckles a little as the two ladies are shooed away. "You attract all kinds, Caulder."
"Hmph," Caulder grunts. "At least there are some women who appreciate a clean-shaven man with nothing he's trying to hide, eh, citizen?" He nudges Ten a moment before he remembers that the alchemist has a tumor hedgehog crawling around under his clothing somewhere.
"I'm not sure about that, Caulder. Don't women enjoy a bit of mystery?" Ten asked Esmerelda.
"They say they like surprises," Caulder muses doubtfully, "but they always seem to have something specific in mind they want to be surprised with."
Candine and Simmony turn around with a beckoning glance that is capable of putting fire into the loins of a geriatric. "Don't hesitate to come inside," Simmony purrs smiling as they leave, tapping Candine's behind as they make for the House of Clouds.
"ha-heh, ahem!" The enterprising guard from before is back, grinning a little manically at the retreating sway of the ladies of the night. "You're in luck! It appears the Spiderking is growing a bit bored; so for your sake I hope what you're here for will entertain him. This way this way." He leads on.
Caulder clears his throat and straightens his tunic once more, diverting his mind from the working girls and toward the business at hand. Knowing he's the slowest of the group, he steps aside to let the others follow first and then brings up the rear.
"Well, I don't care for surprises. They are more than likely something foul that needs to be put in its place faster than you can say 'My, what big...'"
"Ugh." Esmerelda shudders "This place makes me feel unclean. I might require scrubbing with a good hunk of soul soap after this is all done. Let's go and see the slime king then shall we?"
Caulder doesn't seem to hear Esmerelda at all. He's muttering under his breath, "It's all 'Caulder, wouldn't that bracelet we saw in the shop window be a lovely surprise? Only not the emerald one, the one with the diamonds, and you could have it engraved; here, let me jot down what it should say so you don't forget....'"
"Caulder, now is not the time to daydream about what to get your ... uh ... women. We have work to do."
Their lead takes them along the ship to a large door which he opens and beckons them inside. The rooms is large, likely a captain’s cabin in better times, and has been converted into a throne room of sorts. The walls are thick with spiderwebs, in which scuttle dozens of spiders - some as large as a fist but most considerably smaller. These spiders seem content to stay in their webs and do not venture into the room itself, which is furnished with two sturdy oaken tables surrounded by chairs. Aft, a wooden stage supports a large leather chair, itself covered with cobwebs and scampering spiders. A narrow door stands to port, hanging ajar and revealing a flight of stairs leading below. An iron birdcage hangs from the ceiling like a chandelier, inside of which lingers a tiny, tired-looking purple dragon.
Devargo Barvasi, the self-styled King of Spiders, lounges on his throne. He is a tall man with close-cropped black hair, a warm smile, and blue eyes. He accents his black leather armor with a steel spider-shaped shoulder baldric and a thick chain criss-crossing his chest, linked together in the shape of a spider’s web. His signature weapons—gauntlets fixed with blades over the knuckles
A good eight thugs are currently entertaining the Spiderking, seated around several tables and carousing with an odd mixture of tense joviality as they try to outdo each other with boasts to impress Devargo.
Caulder's face wrinkles in disgust as he steps into the vermin-infested room. "Looks like the cleaning staff's gone on strike, eh, Darkbane?" he mutters to the paladin.
Esmerelda lets out a small "eeep" as she notices the hoards upon hoards of spiders. Unconsciously she grabs Caulders arm and starts squeezing, all while whispering to herself "spiders can't hurt me spiders can't hurt me spiders can't hurt me spiders can't hurt me..."
"What are you talking about, Darkbane? Of course they can," he whispers back furiously, trying to rid himself of her grip on his biceps. "They're poisonous; they can kill you. Knew a boy when I was a child who got bit by a spider and all the flesh rotted off his leg down to the bone. Now pull yourself together!"
"Venomous," Ten corrected Caulder, "Sorry, it's a reflex - I blame alchemist's school."
"Impressive collection," Ten says loudly while stopping to take a closer look at the arachnids.
"They do make it feel more homey, don't they," Devargo smile remains, a fixture of the man in a good mood. "Pray tell, what brings you here to seek an audience with the King of Spiders?"
Esme whispers urgently "flesh...rotted...off... Seriously Caulder? Seriously? You are not helping. Oh, Mr Barvassi is smart, surrounding himself with such venomous fiends. There are just too many of them." still clinging to Caulders arm like a barnacle.
Louder, with almost a squeak she addresses Devargo "Your spideryness, we have come to discuss Darvayne Gios isthataspideronmegetitoff... Amprei"
"Please," Devargo beckons, "make yourselves comfortable - I'll have some more ale brought shortly." From the mess and noticeable booze stench it is clear that those present have already enjoyed a fair bit. Nonetheless, two scantily clad sailor girls bring several more flagons of ale after a couple of minutes - while more bawdy or reckless tales get told.
The Spiderking himself mostly pays only half-hearted attention, instead distracting himself with dropping a fist-sized spider into the cage occupied by the little dragon. The tired-looking dragon reacted nearly immediately, clutching itself on the cage bars high up while the spider raised its pincers in hostility. The fight was over almost before it began as the vicious stinger of the dragon impaled and killed the arachnid, a few seconds later a lifeless spider body fell out of the cage to the floor.
The King of Spiders grins and whispers something unheard into the cage.
As far as the ruffhands are concerned, Devargo's laughter is infectious and moments later the room echoes with more cheers. When he finally settles himself on his throne he addresses Esmerelda directly: "Very well, then, let me hear the whole of it. Darvayne Gios, you said?"
Caulder nods his approval of the young men. Good to see men going into the vice trade doing it aboveboard and legal rather than furtively on the streets. More tax money for Korvosa's coffers.
"Thank you, sir, but I'm on duty," he politely refuses the ale when it is offered.
Pagrip accepts a single mug of ale, but only sips at it. He watches the little purple dragon intently for a moment before turning his attention back to the proceedings.
"Fascinating," Ten mused as he watched the brief battle between the dragon and spider. "I had heard about your collection - if that is the correct word - but would never imagined that it would be so... vast," Ten gestured at the spiders, "I could spend days cataloging the various species here. Your title is certainly deserved, sir."
Loudly, addressing the Spider King, Esme announces "Well, truthfully there isn't much to tell. We have learned that Ambassador Amprei is trying to undermine the economy of Korvosa for his own personal gain. A downturn in the economy hurts all, even such as you, your spideryness. To stop Amprei we need some proof of any of his illicit dealings. Which brings us to your door. We have sources that believe you have knowledge of some of Amprei's ill doings. Of course we are authorised to pay well for your ..uh.. services."
Unconsciously Esme continually brushes her right arm as if it is covered in a multitude of spiders. Quietly she adds to herself "Definitely going to need a wash after this is over."
Caulder nods. "We know you to be a loyal citizen of Korvosa. Economic terrorism on the part of Cheliax only benefits black marketeers and those who conduct business under the table. Legitimate businessmen such as yourself would be crippled by a Chelaxian takeover. The Bank recognizes you as a valuable ally in this matter."
"hmmmm..." Devargo smirks a little.
"The ambassador does indeed have occasion to visit Eel's End; but as you understand, there's always business before pleasure. Ambassador Amprei has been nothing if not a wonderfully contributing client here - simple business courtesy does not allow me to simply reveal oh-so-delicate information." His smile broadens, with a definite predatory inflection, "But after business, there's always pleasure and more pleasure - especially here. Are you familiar with the fine sport of Knivesies?"
The ever-popular Knivesies (nighve-zees) is the game of choice among the steeliest pirates, brigands, thieves, and scallywags in Riddleport. It’s increasing popularity in Korvosa is in large part due to Devargo’s enjoyment of the game.
Knivesies is simple to play. Two contestants stand on opposite ends of a long wooden table. Their right hands are strapped together with a boiled leather strap, belt pouches are fitted to their waists, and a dagger is stuck in the tabletop between them. The game begins after a count of ten, during which time observers can place bets by tossing gold onto the table and standing at the end of the table where their chosen fighter stands.
There are two ways to win Knivesies. You can either force the other contestant to fall off the table, or you can grab for the gold and drop it into your pouch. Since each opponent has only one free hand, the first round is typically a mad lunge for the dagger, forcing the slower opponent to make grabs for gold. There aren’t any more rules beyond this; most Knivesies games devolve into tabletop brawls, with the first person to drop or touch the ground losing.
The game ends once a contestant is unconscious, dead, or knocked off the table; as soon as no coins remain on the table; or as soon as any coin is knocked off the table. When the game ends, an unconscious, dead, or de-tabled contestant is automatically the loser. Otherwise, the winner is determined by which person has the most coins in his pouch. At the end of the game, all money is emptied from the pouches back onto the table. Half the total is paid to the winner, while the remainder is split evenly among all of those who stood at the winner’s end of the table.
Devargo is at least somewhat impressed with the case made by the heroes - he's got an effective "liking you" rating based on the DC reached with the Diplomacy checks; you will have to raise the starting Diplomacy check with bribes and other means to a target DC.
Pagrip nods. "I know of knivesies," he says. "I take it you're proposing a round?"
"Knivesies? That sounds like something I might be good at. How does it work, Pagrip?"
"Yes, that does sond like something I might be good at."
"Knivesies? No. Can't say that I am. Pagrip? Setting that aside, perhaps we could make a business proposal to buy the information we require."
Pagrip explains knivesies to the rest of the group. "You might indeed be good at it, Ten," he says. He looks to Devargo. "Who would our opponent be, if I might ask?"
"Heard of it," Caulder tells Pagrip grimly. "Not a fan of blood sports. If a man dies, it ought to be for something more than half a pile of gold. In this case, though," he muses, "the well-being of the city is at stake. If the distiller wants to try it, I can support that."
Devargo's grin widens with opportunistic glee, "What is the point of putting somebody that is sure to win in the circle? This needs to be a competition after all. Tell you what, Miss..." he flounders a moment before continuing brightly, "Miss Abadar. I'll listen to your proposal if you can beat one of these youngsters. Just be gentle, I think half of these boys haven't been close to anything other than their momma's teats." Uproarious laughter and keen tooting erupts from the assembled thugs.
Caulder's face darkens at Devargo's proposal, but he waits to see how the paladin responds.
"I thought we were here to gather some information, not join in some bloodsports for the 'pleasure' of the audience. Especially not for a handful of coins. If that is all, I shall take my leave." Esme turns as if to leave.
Devargo looks slightly disappointed, but focuses on Ten instead, "Seems the holy girl doesn't want to dirty her hands - maybe you will try instead? But I'd have to toughen up the odds a little - to make it a more fun spectator sport."
"I am willing to try, but you'll need to explain how you intend to toughen up the odds. A smaller table?"
Esmerelda grumbles "whipping children for no good reason"
"What are your thoughts on this game, Pagrip?"
Devargo grins again, almost good-naturedly, "You'll take on two of these guys, one for each hand." Some of the thugs start baying, eager to be chosen to show their skills.
"Two? Well, I can always rely on beginner's luck. Since this is all in good fun, can I assume that there'll be no magic or..." Ten paused briefly, glancing at Caulder, "Performance enhancing substances?"
Then to Pagrip: [smaller][b]"Have there been many knivesies deaths before? Do you think I have a chance at this?"[smaller][b]
"It's a violent game," Pagrip tells Esmerelda, "and it occasionally ends in death, but generally only when the participants get a little too rambunctious. They're usually drunk at the time too."
He looks to Devargo. "However, with all due respect, Devargo, I understood you were an honourable man. Everything I've heard about you says that you treat your guests with respect, and yet here you are changing the rules because...why? You'll make our guy face two opponents? What? You don't think these kids here are competent in any way? They're too pathetic to go on their own? Do you really want everyone here thinking you're a cheater? What will happen when the story spreads? And you know the way stories can get exaggerated. Come on now, show the world that you don't cheat. Show some trust in one of your friends here and let him go it alone against our guy. Let's do this right."