Quinn scowls in deep thought a moment and says softly... "You don't suppose the female patron of Vancaskerkin might have been the queen herself, or someone acting on her behalf, do you? After all, who would benefit so clearly from a drugged and compliant populace." He shrugs and winces slightly, not really wanting to contemplate the idea he just proposed... He shakes his head as if trying to get rid of the whole concept from his thoughts. "Ah well, probably best not to even consider that."
He looks shocked for a brief moment at Vencarlo's suggestion that he left abruptly without leaving word, then chuckles as he realizes it's not meant in earnest... "Haven't seen you much since this whole thing started, dear cousin. It would be nice to remedy that... Let's go for a walk. I think we may have a bit of high finance to settle before heading to Eel's end though."
Vencarlo smiles, making formal introductions with everyone but Quinn (who he clearly already knows) but pauses with Ilsa when is is more somber and earnest. He leans in to address her and says quietly, "Truly terrible news about your niece. It's a sin that such can happen in Korvosa. I promise to do all I can to help you and Miss Briget. Have faith, young lady... we will find her." He squeezes her shoulder warmly while looking into her eyes with a sincerity not often encountered.
Introductions done, he tips an imaginary hat to the field marshal, "Madam, if there is nothing else, we will bid you adieu." Without waiting for a reply, he steps to the door and opens it. On the other side, a pair of guards standing at their posts are startled by the sudden movement and noise but quickly settle.
Quinlan notices no reaction from Cressida and simply leaves with Vencarlo and the others.
After a bow to the Field Marshal, Bashiel follows Vencarlo out, falling in beside Quin as he does so. He taps the tiefling's shoulder and whispers to him once there's a bit of distance between them and the energetic blademaster "Vencarlo seems rather lighthearted about this. Is he always like this? And... can we rely on him not to lead us astray with Devargo's establishment?"
Bashiel checks though his things to see if anything is displaced or missing.
"He is quite the charmer, but I assure you, he takes things seriously. Mastery of his art alone should be evidence of his ability to be quite serious. Truly, there is no one I trust more in this world. Be at ease, Bash. He wouldn't mislead us."
Bashiel checks though his things to see if anything is displaced or missing.
Vencarlo walks with you and seems in no particular rush, content to let you buy and sell gear and provisions as necessary.
"I ask you all to please excuse me, Cressida has given me a fair bit of background on each of you, so if it seems I'm teasing you with unfair knowledge, that is not my intent. On the contrary... I love this city deeply and it seemed that for years under the king, she was doing so well. But these recent events, and the things you're uncovering... well, it's been some time since Korvosa had need of heroes, but it seems as if, willingly or not, you're taking on that mantle."
Individually during your walk north towards the Narrows and Old Korvosa, he engages each of you in conversation.
To Kalem, "I gather you've seen the worst of the city. I speak of things doing well, though you've lost family, yes? And to the Crown's justice? Why stay? Is it just the money?"
To Brin, "I heard of your wife, Master Baker. I'm so sorry for your loss. Have you found justice? Peace? Will you continue to bake or find another pursuit?"
To Ilsa, "My dear, I'm sure you've barely had time to think the last few weeks. Tell me of your niece. What does she hope to do when she grows older?"
To Varor, "I admire your faith, priest. Compassion and caring towards those in need; a turn towards redemption for sinners. But I'm curious. Not many elves seem to stay in Korvosa, priest. They come to visit or to train, but rarely to live. Do you stay for your church? Will you leave when this is done?"
To Bashiel, "Sergeant! Cressida seems impressed by you. She may not show it to you, but I can tell. Known her for too long. But all of this...extra-judicial process seems to weigh on you. How are you managing?"
While others are shopping or another opportunity presents itself, Vencarlo breaks from his engagement with the group for a quieter conversation with his younger cousin. Anyone who tries to listen has no trouble doing so.
"Your sister is doing well, by the way. Everyone is safe, though my father is sadly a bit confused as to what has been happening these last couple of days. Now, what of you? I'd wager you haven't had much time for drawing or other 'distractions'. I never much took you for a fighter, Quinn. Why are you doing this?"
He considers Vencarlos question's for a long time before answering, "Do you know that I'm barely over a century old? A lifetime by human standards, yet nothing more than a boy by elf standards, who is barely getting the right to call himself a man."
"Perhaps I will leave, when the city is back in a state of peace. But it is hard to leave one's home, it is the only home I've ever known. But she is proving to be cold and uncaring as a Pharasmin priest. Raised in the arms of a knight of hell. To running with the rats. To receiving a dagger in the back. To killing the only brother I've ever had."
"But it is in that uncaring that I have survived, taken in as an orphan by a man I don't remember. Given the opportunity to steal and get away with it. Given a chance to change my ways when I was shown that they had brought me nothing but treachery. To allow me to help those in need, even if I wish they did not need to be so."
"As time passes I realize why so many elves choose to live amongst their own and away from human cities, it is the pain of the loss. I have seen all of my family pass before me, should I stay I would see my friend's pass before me as well. And yet this city is my home, the only one I have ever truly known, and I find it hard to leave."
You must certainly be an experienced man, if you're bringing up questions of trust.
"It is good to hear Erina is doing well... Your father's confusion troubles me... is it just the chaos of the situation, or is his age playing a part in that? He's always been so ready with his broad knowledge, quick wit and sharp tongue. I do hope that's not fading."
"As for why I'm doing this... it started with Lamm and putting a stop to the drugs he spreads through the city, but it's become more than that... I may not be a fighter, though I can learn... perhaps you could teach me?.. but there isn't really time for that now, is there?"
He lowers his voice and leans in close to Vencarlo as he both listens, and speaks very softly.
"Each of these folks has proven themselves to be an asset to our little group. I'm not even sure what you'd call us... companions by serendipity, perhaps? Whatever we are, each has their strengths and weaknesses."
"Bash over there," he nods toward Bashiel "is stalwart and steady, but perhaps a bit rigid in his thinking. Still, he seems to be capable of flexibility when the fit hits the shan. He may seem a bit of a tight-ass on the surface, but underneath that, he's a good man with a strong faith worthy of great respect."
"Ilsa, the young shopgirl who lost her niece, she seems very insecure, but extremely competent nonetheless, moreso than she realizes, with powers not yet fully realized. She performs feats she seems almost surprised by, as if she doesn't know her own capabilities. It's almost a delight to see the awareness dawn at each new revelation."
"Varor, our elven friend, is a quiet sort, not a lot to say, yet I sense a deep commitment to his faith and a strength that barely touches the surface of who he is. He seems to be a bit distant, but my limited understanding of the fair folk leads me to suspect that isn't uncommon in their dealings with non-elves. I hope he doesn't decide to quit the city over all the brouhaha going on."
"Kalem and I share a distant bond, though I'm not sure he knows more than of our dealings with Lamm. I get the feeling he is sensitive about his heritage and the reactions of others toward it. It does seem to color his relations and dealings with others, almost as if he suspects their intentions are always going to be negative. I could be wrong. He is quite an adept member of our little group. I hope the chip on his shoulder tempers with time."
"Brin the baker is an odd sort. I am afraid I discounted him at first, thinking him merely a bit of a buffoon, but he has proved that to be wrong, much to my surprise. He has power and I suspect more than he has displayed to us so far. His little companion is quite... unusual, too. I've never heard of it's like. And that's not to mention that he is an exceptional baker as well.. Have you tried his tarts? They might just be the best in the city!"
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To Ilsa, "My dear, I'm sure you've barely had time to think the last few weeks. Tell me of your niece. What does she hope to do when she grows older?"
Ilsa smiles at the kind Vencarlo. "No, I have not had much time to think the last few weeks," Ilsa lies.
There is always time to think at night, when others sleep and the nightmares press around me...
"Briget is the sweetest girl, just eight years old. Of course, she likes to play with her doll, and dress up like a grown up, and would come and help me in the shop. I do not think she had yet given much thought to what she would do when she is older, but what can the poor in Korvosa aspire to? Tend a shop like her aunt? Though perhaps, once we find her, I can help her more than I could have before," Ilsa says, patting her belt pouch bulging with gold.
"This could buy her freedom from poverty...an education..." she trails off, thinking of other things.
After the group completes their selling of various valuables, Bashiel separates briefly to take off his guard's insignia, cloak and other gear that would clearly identify him. After he's done, he rejoins the group and follows after them as they walk through the city.
He initially seems content to listen to Vencarlo's discussions with Quin, Varor and Ilsa, though his attention is drawn every so often to the buildings and people the group passes.
Quin vouches for him, Ilsa seems comfortable, and I can't help feeling reassured. He IS a blademaster after all, and he seems genuinely interested in helping the Guard.
When Vencarlo turns to speak with Bashiel, he responds "I'm not so sure that the Field Marshal sees much in me. I spent a night in a jail cell at her orders after all. I can't blame her though, I'm a novice at all this in some ways. My experience in the guard has been one with plenty of training, some experience dealing with common criminals and drunkards, and long hours of watch duty. Nothing like the chaos that's been happening the last few days."
"I suppose I'm managing well enough though. After all, I have those supporting me." He pauses, realizing that he might not want to reveal anything about his ancestors, and continues, waving his hand at the party as he does so "We might be a very motley group, but everyone handles themselves better in a fight than many I've seen in the Guard"
"The things we've seen these last few days though... I don't know whether its lucky or unlucky that I never came across depravities of this scale before. I can't say I'm comfortable meeting this Devargo in good faith either... much less giving him money. But if that's the only way we can help Briget, and maybe the others that were kidnapped?" Bashiel shrugs, uncomfortable with the trade-offs.
"Regardless, all this about the Cheliaxan ambassador hardly feels real. Buying up large portions of Korvosa? Sounds like the kind of thing nobles and politicians would work against, not people like us."
Vencarlo nods and hmms softly at Bashiel's reference to being jailed. "My one criticism of the field marshal is that she can be a very 'by the book' sort. Obviously, there are times she is flexible. This whole thing with the lot of you, for example, even if it is the Queen's idea. Had it been me and I knew you were innocent, that'd have been the end of it. But not Cressida.
"As for these last few days," he sighs softly, shaking his head. "Korvosa has a history filled with dark deeds and blacker souls. Some say it's all wound up in the same superstition attached to the throne. But, yes, it sounds like the lot of you are finding quite a lot of rot."
The walk continues further north and you cross one of the bridges into Old Korvosa. "When it comes to Devargo, trust nothing he says and little that you see. I don't believe he is a magic user, but he is wily and dangerous. He has a dozen enforcers at Eel's End, mercenaries and soldiers drummed out of service for conduct. But don't expect them to be lazy or drunk; The King of Spiders runs a tight ship and those who are found laying down on the job are punished harshly.
"In the mix, you'll find the Goldenhawk, a ship turned into a bunk house where you can sleep off the drink. The Twin Tigers, a gambling hall built onto a barge. The House of Clouds, which is a brothel. And the Dragon's Breath, an opium den.
"I don't know what it'll take or who you should approach to get a meeting with Devargo, but be careful and, if you decide to kick things off with a fight, be ready for anything."
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To Kalem, "I gather you've seen the worst of the city. I speak of things doing well, though you've lost family, yes? And to the Crown's justice? Why stay? Is it just the money?"
"While I have seen much that is not bright, it feels good to be able to do what is right. I have nothing against the Crown's Justice, nor have I ever had reason to think ill of them. It's not like I'm a criminal who would have reason to harbor ill feelings towards the arbiters of justice."
The lie slipped easily enough off of his tongue. Some of it was true, as it did feel good to be firmly planted on the side of what was right, the rest was a fabrication. The last thing he wanted was to admit to someone working with the guard that he was anything but an upstanding and upright citizen. He still half expected the guard to turn on him once they didn't need him anymore. If they were so willing to through Bashiel into a cell, and he was the most virtuous man that Kalem had ever met, he shuddered to think about what they would do to a tiefling. He was there because the money was better than anything he had ever made on the streets, and because it made him feel good about himself. But that didn't mean that he had to be naive about it.
Bashiel scratches at his beard while Vencarlo explains. "I agree Ilsa, going in with swords drawn will likely have the whole place against us in short order, Guard uniforms or not."
"Vencarlo, do you know if it'll be allowed, or attract much attention, if we go into any of these places armed or armored? We should try not to stick out too much, but not having our equipment will be dangerous when things inevitably go south. Or if we leave our weapons aside, can we can at least keep ourselves armored?"
Bashiel pauses for a moment as he continues to brainstorm possible approaches. "Do you know which of these places usually houses the King of Spiders? I assume he must have offices somewhere, if only to count his fortunes in comfort. Do you know people, places, or things he favors? Knowing more about him would help if we're ever face to face. A small gift might be enough to let him drop his guard just a little."
Bashiel listens with interest as Vencarlo responds. Deep in thought, he stumbles as he walks through the street.
"I can't say I like the sound of any of his businesses. But if they're open to the public it should be easy enough to get in an ask around. The Dragon's Breath might have the most... open... patrons, and they won't be too likely to remember us afterward. The House of Clouds might have an employee or two who doesn't see their employer in too positive a light, though that would attract more attention. The Twin Tigers seems the most dangerous, plenty of employees and patrons will have an eye out for easy marks and we'll be noticed for sure."
He grins at Kalem "Then again, if I remember a night in an inn a few weeks ago right, I think we might have just the man to ask around in a place like that."
"Now that I think about it Kalem, how do YOU think we should get the information we need out of Devargo? And can we do it without giving up the gold we got from the Field Marshal?" He glances at the rest of the party "The question is open to all of you. This operation is beyond anything I did in the Guard, I'm sure some of you have the experience we need to approach this properly."
Vencarlo's smile turns into a little more of a grin at Kalem's response and he murmurs a non-committal mmm hmm. "Yes, of course."
To Bashiel, "Everyone goes into Eel's End armed. That won't be a problem; it's expected. The 'King' will be in the warship, Eel's End, that gives name to the entire place."
"If you go in there expecting to not hand over any of the gold we got for brib then you're a fool. If it will truly be too much for you to see the gold trade hands then you need to not step on the ship or go in there swords swinging. It'll take a bit of haggling to walk out of there with any of the gold and the information we need, but this is their turf, their den, and they're going to want the gold a lot more than you do." Varor says with certainty. Understanding that the size of the bribe, and they're established business, speaks well of their abilities and operation.
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Bashiel nods at Vencarlo's additional details and then at Ilsa's comment "We'll see if we can turn up anything worthwhile by asking around"
To Varor's comment, Bashiel responds "I wouldn't call keeping the people's gold out of the hands of Devargo and his foul businesses to be foolish, if we can manage otherwise." He sighs "You're probably right though, unless one of us has a good idea of how to get the information out of Devargo willingly, we have little choice but to grease his palms."
After some more light conversation, you come near your destination and Vencarlo points south along a street back towards the Jeggarre. "You'll find Eel's End that way. I'm afraid I won't be joining you; my face is a little too well known and I'll only attract unwanted attention to you. Good luck!"
Before he leaves, he steps over to Quinlan and whispers:
He winks mischievously.
Turning back to the rest, he offers a swift bow, then spins on his heel and is gone.
Heading towards the water, the following scene unveils itself to you:
The sound of carousing booms from the elegantly painted barges moored to this long pier. Large signs painted in several languages are nailed to pilings and hang from ropes slung between barges. The closest barge to the east bears a sign that says, “The Twin Tigers—Take the Tiger by the Tail and Try Your Luck!” Opposite that, to the west, a boat’s sign says, “Welcome to the Goldenhawk—No Safer Stay in Old Korvosa!” Further to the southeast is “Dragon’s Breath Corridor—Dream the Dragon’s Dreams at Affordable Prices!”, while opposite that is the “House of Clouds—The Caress of Our Lovelies Will Take You Straight to Heaven!” Only the largest vessel, an old warship to the south, bears no signage at all. Short rope bridges or gangplanks provide access to the decks of these ships from the pier and from the decks of other ships.
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Ilsa considers the various ships ahead of them. "We never did decide if we were going in with all our arms and armor," she says. "I don't have much...just this sap and a dagger. I doubt it will attract much attention, and this armor is pretty sleek, too," she says with a glance at her form-fitting leather.
"But I think we should go in the gambling one first...the Twin Tigers? Maybe we can get some information before we do something stupid."
"That sounds fine to me, but I have nothing to gamble with, and a large group walking around asking questions and not 'playing' may attract the wrong sort of attention. Perhaps we should go in in groups of two or three at the most, or even individually."
Bashiel shows a confused smile to Quinlan as Vencarlo heads off, but says nothing. His attention is quickly drawn to the panoply of ships.
After Ilsa and Quinlan speak, he follows with a quiet comment "I agree Quin, smaller groups would draw a lot less attention. I mentioned it earlier, but the gambling den seems the most dangerous. Everyone keeping their eyes peeled for cheats and thieves. Maybe we could start at the Dragon's Breath and see how willing the people inside are to share what they know of Devargo?"
He crosses his arms and looks around at the complex.
OK, deep breath. Don't seem uneasy. Don't seem out of place. I can do this.
After a long breath he uncrosses his arms and stretches. His stance becomes loose and a slouch comes into his back. His next glance across the complex seems less sharp, less judging.
"I'll follow with whichever group is undermanned if we're splitting up." He nods at the group. "I'll leave how we split up and to where to those of you who have a sense for this kind of 'undercover' investigation"
Bashiel waits off to one side, an eye on Kalem, Quin and Brin. After seeing them seem none too eager to get started, he comes forward again. "Alright, lets try the Dragon's Breath then. Not sure exactly what to expect, but I'm sure it'll turn out fine."
To Ilsa, Bashiel says "All of us together really is a big group, and one that's probably going to stand out. Pairs or individuals would be best. Ilsa, do you want to stick with me? I could use someone to kick me when I say something that raises their hackles." He grins at Ilsa.
"Varor, Quin, Kalem, I get the feeling you three know how to blend with a crowd like this. Lets meet back out here after we're done, and then go on to the next boat as a group."
After a bit more hesitation on his part, he quietly murmurs "OK... no use waiting around the lion's den for him to come out I guess." and then saunters on towards the Dragon's Breath, slouching and picking at his teeth with his fingernail as he goes.
Once he gets on deck, he calls back to the rest "Oi! This was the good place, right? You coming?" and then, assuming he isn't stopped, he heads on in.
Quinlan heads in, hoping to not raise too many suspicions by his dress and manner.... He does his best to blend in, trying to look and act like a local minor aristocrat out to win or lose some cash. His manner is affable, but not overly friendly with too many strangers... He does stop now and then and watch anyone winning (or losing) big money, but with a casually disinterested air.
When a chance for conversation comes up, as such things often do, he'll admit this is his first time, marvel at the fun being had and ask with only the mildest of interest about others' experiences here. Eventually he'll try to bring the conversation around to the owner of said establishment, asking only innocuous questions. In time, he'll ask more pointed questions if and only if it seems appropriate.
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Ilsa nods as Bashiel explains his plan.
I'm glad someone with his experience is with us...I wouldn't know where to start.
He was also the one she felt most comfortable with. Their motley group included at least a few who made the shop girl uncomfortable, but the paladin seemed like a very good person.
She put a hand on her belt pouch, first to ensure that no pickpockets made off with her gold. But also to look like someone ready to spend some coin.
"What is there to drink around here?" she asks Bashiel loudly as they enter. She puts on her most winning smile.
The guards and enforcers scattered throughout the pier cast a glance your way, but other than a gruff nod and instruction to not make any trouble, you're hardly given a second glance. You make your way to a once-proud vessel, painted a gaudy red, and at its aft entrance find a sign that reads simply, “Pass into the Dreams of the Dragon.”
Thick, pungent smoke assails the nose below deck, the open interior of which is partitioned with silken curtains and filled with large beds and couches. Glossy-eyed patrons loll about and mewl, their minds burning with shiver, pesh, flayleaf, and other exotic drugs.
A skinny, short man -- barely three feet tall -- wanders languidly around the smoking room, wheeling a large hookah to and fro on a cart. As you enter, he stops his slow circuit and comes directly towards you. "Welcome to the Dragon's Breath. Entrance fee is five crowns. Lets you enjoy the setting, company, and the hookah. More is extra."
Quinlan heads to the "Twin Tigers", a pair of hut-like structures atop a barge. From within come sounds of raucous laughter and periodic roars of victory.
Inside of each of the structures on the main deck, tables are packed with
gamblers. Dice clatter, cards are dealt, wheels spin, and coins aplenty dance and jangle to the fickle whim of fate—knivesies is a particular favorite.
One of the Eel's End enforcers is here near the entrance, keeping an eye for any fights or conflict.
Knivesies is simple to play. Two contestants stand on top of opposite ends of a long wooden table. Their right hands are bound to their sides with boiled leather straps, belt pouches are fitted to their waists, and a dagger is stuck in the tabletop between them. The game begins after a count of 10, during which time observers can place bets by tossing gold pieces (roll 3d6+20 to determine how many gp land on the table) onto the table and standing at the end of the table where their chosen fighter stands. As the game begins, each contestant rolls an Initiative check.
There are two ways to win knivesies. You can force the other contestant to fall off the table, or you can end the game with more gold than your opponent claimed. Snatching a fistful of 1d10 coins off the table is a standard action that provokes an attack of opportunity. 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.
Quinlan winds up talking with one of the more friendly of the gambling parlor's inhabitants, a Vudrani man wrapped in red silks. He introduces himself as Anpugit. "The owner? Ah. Who owns fate? We merely hope that Desna smiles upon us. But should you mean the master of this house, that would be me and my brother. I haven't seen you around before? What games interest you? Cards? Dice? A round of knivesies? Perhaps you'd like a drink before you start?"
Considering his options for a moment Varor decides to go to the Twin Tigers behind Quinlan to keep an eye on him. Knowing that he would probably be more useful at the Dragon's Breath, he's also aware that he is no better equipped or able to deal with those who seek to addle their mind with drugs. Where as the pickpockets and thieves who are willing to risk whatever meal money they have gained over time are more than willing to go and pick at a lone target.
Bashiel looks lazily about, taking stock of the people within sight and trying to find someone who is both alert enough to talk intelligibly and drugged enough to be suggestible.
He keeps any people he spotted in mind for later, and then makes a show of looking the short man up and down for longer than necessary. He tries to judge if this is an employee and if the man is currently drugged in any way.
Either way, after pausing a little longer, he passes over 5 gold pieces and says "For that kind of money, I'm hoping you can take some time to tell us about the Dragon's Breath. First time here for both of us. I've heard it has some good stuff..." He smiles conspiratorily at the man, and then he beckons at Ilsa for her to join them. He smiles at her as well and says "Remember when we heard about it dear? He told some interesting stories about this place."
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Dark thoughts press in upon Ilsa as she tries to make it look like she's enjoying herself. Dark shapes moved at the periphery of her vision. It was almost as if the decadent den invited her dark thoughts closer to her.
Then, there was her sister, who had died from drinking water from a well tainted with shiver.
She tried to follow Bashiel's lead.
She laughs and put her head on his shoulder. "Yes, sweetie...you were always the more adventurous one. I'll try it all, but you know I may need some time to loosen up. Maybe some conversation first."
She places five of her own gold crowns on the table.
"Tell us more about this place," she asks the tiny man. "First of all, what's your name, and what do you do here?"
In the Dragon's Breath...
Drowsy laughter peals from some smoke shrouded corner as the man smiles at Bashiel and Ilsa, pleased by the coin and flattery. He slips the coins into a pouch in a practiced and casual movement. "Ah, I wondered when I didn't recognize you. Well, welcome to the best den in Korvosa. Let the waves soothe your body and the rest easy your mind. You can call me Jarlax, and I'm the host."
He takes the hands the two of you have closest to one another, presses them together, then gently pulls you over towards an unoccupied sofa upholstered in crushed velvet the color of Jade. "First, sit, relax. A lovely couple such as yourselves, I'm thinking something to stimulate the senses, yes? Transport your minds to new experiences. Such love, you've no pain to dull, only good feelings to expand and share."
"So, no shiver for you. Silvertongue, maybe, but perhaps you'd like a private room for that if you know what I mean." He winks and nudges Bashiel's thigh. "Truly, perhaps a couple of pulls from the hookah and, while you relax, I'll fetch some of our finest poppies. Some drowsiness at the end, tis true, but first an hour of bliss. And maybe the backroom. That'd be fifty gold for the opium, but a sweet couple like yourself, first time here at the Dragon's Breath... I'll give you the backroom for free."
When Bashiel thinks that Jarlax isn't looking, he glances at Ilsa with an apologetic wince on his face.
Mirya, I hope you won't hold this small deception against me...
He turns back to the man, saying "Oh? My, thank you Jarlax." He leans down as if to sit on the jade colored sofa, and then straightens again. "That does sound good... but... maybe a bit ordinary? What else do you have on offer? Something for a good feeling, like you said? With a little less weighty of a-" He waves his hand about, searching for the word "-aftertaste?"
As Jarlax explains, Bashiel settles on the sofa and pats to either side of himself, miming for both Jarlax and Ilsa to take a seat. He gives his full attention to the man, prompting him with appreciative exclamations when needed. After Jarlax is done, Bashiel will look over to Ilsa and say "Still feeling like you're not ready yet?"
Giving another smile to the man, Bashiel continues "I think you might be able to put us both at ease... and well, I admit I'm a little worried myself here. I've never partaken in such an open setting. How can we be sure that we'll be undisturbed? Are there any guards protecting the room you mentioned? I saw some on the way in but..."
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Ilsa visibly blushes--she does not need to fake it--as the talk turns to back rooms and drugs.
Still, she holds tight to Bashiel's arm, hoping they can get some more information without having to partake of the vices of this place.
"I am concerned about being uninterrupted," she says after swallowing hard. "And...what can you tell us about the owner of this place? He doesn't share any information with the guard, does he? Maybe if you just told me some more about who runs this place, I'd feel more comfortable. I just need to let my guard down a bit, you know?"
The man seems to be growing slightly impatient at the couple's noncommittal approach to his wares, but Ilsa manages to trick a few pieces of information from him. With a sigh of exaggerated patience, he explains, "Everything here is on the up and up, yes yes. We're current on our vice taxes, the King of Spiders sees to it and because of that you'll never see the guard here and, even if they were, there's nothing illegal. If ya want to see him, he's likely on this throne on the aft of the warship. So... what'll it be? If you're feeling like something more expensive, lad, I'd like to see some gold."
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Ilsa blanches as she begins to feel the effects of the toxic fumes.
She begins coughing profusely, not sure she liked where things were going with taking the drugs or, for that matter, insinuations with Bashiel.
"I'm not..." she coughs, "...sure I'm...ready for this..."
She continues coughing some more, hopeful they have obtained enough information.
"I don't...know if I can...stay dear..."
Bashiel tries to listen politely to Jarlax, but finds himself coughing as he breathes in the atmosphere of the den. He looks at Ilsa with a mix of acted and real worry, saying "You don't look good, not at all. Maybe some of the concoctions served here are not pure enough. Or maybe some mix isn't agreeing with you"
He holds a hand up to Jarlax and says "Looks like we'll have to get back to you on our choice. Thanks for the introduction. I think we'll take a bit of a look at what everyone else is enjoying and then we'll see how we feel." He asks Ilsa "Sound alright to you?"
He holds a hand up briefly to his head and winces, but does his best otherwise to hide his discomfort at the atmosphere of the place. He gets on up off the sofa and pulls Ilsa up with him.
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Once he's free of Jarlax's attentions, he pulls Ilsa aside and quietly says "Whatever they have filling the air here is killing me. Do you think we should ask around any more? If not, I could use some clean air."