Roland raises his eyebrows, visibly skeptical, but the evidence is there before his face. "What sort of place..." but leaves the rest unsaid as he pushes into the building, now fully curious, which removes nearly all his earlier unease.
Richards mood became better at the sight of the establishment they were looking at. It looked like the sort of place which was stocked to cater to the customers every need, be it the women, wine, or "other" pleasures. They may call it something else here, or they might not even have it, but with any luck, whatever they DO have will do the trick.
Rubbing his hands excitedly, he made for the door.
I had meant to ask this before, but would Ang be able to create something to help Richard kick his opium addiction? I have heal, prof. herbalist, craft-alchemy, and know. nature. Would any/all of these help me create something??
Well, this is a pleasant surprise! And I thought we were going to be dealing with some dockside waifs turning tricks. This is more like it. If I had know, I would have bought that sailor another drink! Jossem grins as they approach the place.
He looks at the Father with feigned shock. "I never have such intentions at all, Father. But the girls do have such an inviting air." He grabs Dick's arm as the man rushes up to the door. "Decorum, dear chap." He nods, then releases him and waits for the man to open the door.
Ang could certainly come up with something to make the withdrawl much less pointed and perhaps reduce his cravings, but Richard still needs to kick on his own. DC 25 Craft Alchemy, with an alchemy kit or access to similar equipemtn.
First, the scent: Heady and thick, warm and intoxicating... The air of the open lobby of the establishment a beckon to relax, to forget... to enjoy.
Then, the sound: Seated in a lavishly furnished louNge to the right, A beautiful woman plays a complicated piece on an elaborate harp, the music playful and inviting. The hushed speech an undertone, hamronized by the occasional, delighted laughter of women.
Lastly, most sumptuously, the sights: A marble floor, perfectly polished, a thick red carpet the color of dark, dark wine leading deeper into the house. Beautiful women of every color, in elaborate AND suggestive dresses, glide about, talking with each other, laughing with the many well-dressed men in the area, or simply waiting, smiling, and watching.
A woman approaches the group. Once, she would have been stunning. But time is cruel, unrelenting, and now she is but a shadow of a former beauty. Her hair is iron grey, pulled back into a tight bun; her skin a flawless ivory. Her eyes are dark brown, her smile is welcoming, but her eyes are sharp and she seems to devour the party with her appraisal.
What beauty left her seems to have been replaced with a stone confidence and unquestionable dominion over this place. The girls unengaged with clientele watch her intently. Those busy entertaining glance often. Their looks are that of devotion, respect, and a strong undercurrent of fear.
”Bienvenue à La Fleur Rose, mes amis.” she says, extending a hand. ”Je M'appelle Madeliene Corbeuax. Comment pouvons-nous vous servir?”
Welcome to the Pink Flower, my friends. My name is Madeline Corbeaux. How can we serve you?
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Standing properly and with the authority of his faith the preist states, "Greetings Madam, do you perhaps speak Zherisian? We are here investigating a series of gruesome murders and want to make certain that none of the ladies in the house are in any danger. We believe that a murdering lunatic has arrived in this town before us, and that he prefers to target... ladies who share your occupation."
Roland can't help but just... bask in the delicious scene they enter upon, his many sense, already sharp, happily drowning in sights, sounds, and smells. But then the austere woman approaches, and the detective forces himself to focus, giving the woman an appraising look of his own.
Roland notes her confidence and authority, along with the way she holds the attention of the unengaged working girls, both the respect and the fear. To the fathers words he adds, "We've tracked the man from... some distance. Some of us have seen first-hand what he's capable of and we're hoping to put him down before he can do it again. His methods are quite shocking. If you'd prefer to have this conversation elsewhere, we're happy to oblige. We just want to help." He coughs at the end of his little speech, rudely forgetting to cover his mouth, perhaps to the annoyance of the iron-haired woman.
The woman smiles as she shakes each hand in turn. "Oui, Zherisian it shall be."
"I assure you, the women under my care and employ are safe. These are not mere streetwalkers." She gestures to them, as if to emphasize the point. It is well emphasized. The term 'courtesan' may apply here more readily than that of 'whore' or 'prostitute'
[b]"Though I am curious as to why you would come to me directly, rather than bring this information to the local constabulary." At Roland's point, she nods.
"Ah, I see it now. Bounty hunters. I understand. If you wish to speak further privately, do come."
She leads the group away, to a comfortable looking, and empty drawing room. Well maintained and comfortable looking chairs flank a fireplace, a table, clearly for some kind of gambling, has rows of colored chips and several decks of cards upon it.
"Make yourselves comfortable." she says, and produces a bottle and several wine glasses from a cabinet by the door. "Drinks?" she asks, pouring and distributing before an answer even comes.
"So tell me of this killer, and I will provide you what aid I can... in exchange for a favor." she says, smiling slightly.
Roland sniffs his drink before taking a generous sip, "I apologize if I was unclear earlier, but we are not bounty hunters, we are..." he stops suddenly, looking at the others in consternation, eyebrows raised high as if to say I don't know what we are. He struggles on, "Concerned citizens." He begins by describing Jack the Ripper, his history in London, the fear of the citizens, and their encounter with him less than earlier. He gives a vague description of the Rippers methods, leaving the details of the dead prostitute for someone else to supply, not actually seeing the scene himself.
While he lets her digest this, and others add further details he leans in, "I hope you use this information to the benefit and safety of your... employees, thus we give it freely. But what favor do you seek from us? We are extremely new to this region and it's customs."
Jossem looks back with some regret as they leave the alluring girls behind. Quite direct, aren't we? I suppose Detective Clive must keep distractions to a minimum. I doubt I would make a good investigator.
He looks over to the woman. "Madam Corbeaux, was it? You may want to see if any of your girls has notices an odd tall man with a top hat lurking about. Perhaps following them home or something." His hand rest lightly on his cane, hoping to at least look like he might belong here rather than with the ragtag group he entered with.
The woman seems more amused than anything, and completely unconcerned.
Madam Corbeaux listens intently to Roland's recounting of their situation.
"I certainly understand your desire to see justice done to this Ripper character, Detective Clive. I have lived in this city for many years, and I have certain contacts that could be of use to you in your pursuit."
To Monsieur Rook, the smiles and nods.
"I can assure you that the safety of those in my employee is unquestioned. However, I will share the information, in hopes that they will be more... aware, in their comings and goings."
She idly swishes her untouched glass of wine, watching it for a second.
"The favor is simple enough. A local playwright. Emmanuel Watson; has become something of an issue. He owes me money, to be frank, and to make things worse, he has attempted to lure away one of my employees with lies, promises of fame and riches, the life of a famous actress." she snorts in derision. "He is simply trying to get what he pays for without paying. Not that he pays in the first place..."
She smiles, and puts down her glass.
"Please see to it that this man's account is settled. See to it that he ceases his designs upon young Colette. In return, I will see what information I can find for you. A mutually beneficial arrangement, oui?. The best kind."
"What say you?"
Roland watches her as they speak, noting her complete lack of concern. She must not have seen the Rippers handiwork, or there's no way she'd be this calm! he realizes with some relief.
The man is loathe to be relegated to an enforcer, but the target sounded harmless enough, a playwright. Tommy would probably know what to do, which was a small comfort. Acknowledging their desperate need for information, it's lack had been weighing heavily on the tall detective, Roland decides to agree. "I will help, Madame Corbeaux, but I'll let my companions speak for themselves."
"The room is yours." she says, and exits; closing the door behind her. The sounds of laughter and the harp still permeate the patterned wallpaper, but privacy seems to be yours.
Roland inclines his head as she leaves, and then turns to the others, cutting to the chase, "What are your thoughts Father? I understand the source of the help may be unsavory, but we are in desperate need of information."
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Father Paidraig shakes his head. "Mary Magdailin was embraced by our Lord, so it is not the source that is the issue... However I'll not be a part of violence to recover a prostitution debt. Further, she may be correct that her courtesans are likely in less danger than the streetwalkers that she spoke of disdainfully... That is what the Ripper seemed to target in London, at least."
Should have seen that coming Roland thinks, considering the Father. "Fairly stated, but why do you assume violence will be needed? The man is a playwright, and perhaps just needs to be guided appropriately. By someone in authority, perhaps?" Roland knows he's laying it on a bit thick, but more flies with honey...
Ang continues to look over the ladies, attempting to discern any with a non-western heritage. If there are none, he become much more despondent and trails after the rest of the party. If the opportunity does come up, he will as where he might find the makings of a travelling alchemy lab.
"Father, we know very little about this place, and while I'm happy to try and take the first ship out of here, if we plan to find the Ripper then we may need all the help we can get. A Madam such has she will have stores of secrets and knowledge of this city that you wouldn't believe. We could do with a far worse friend on our side."
"Plus," he adds, "Some of us haven't taken vows of celibacy"
Richard followed the others into and through the building, lightly swaying from side to side in a drunken haze. The sounds, the smells and the women. They were all intoxicating, and no matter how often he had been in places similar to this one, they always had the same effect, as if he was there for the first time "Atleast there are some pleasures that do not grow dimmer and harder to catch with every taste."
When the others started to retire to the private room, he wanted nothing more than to leave them to their investigation, and go investigate a thing or two about what this place had to offer, but noticing that Ang was trailing behind as well, he quickly changed his mind. As the madam handed out drinks, he greedily devoured the content of his glass, shakily eyeing the liquid within the glasses offered to the others. Most of them didnt even drink their portion!
When the madam finally left them to privacy, he emideatly went to the bottle to refill his glass, emptying it twice before finally settling down on a couch and slowly sipping at his fourth serving. Within moments he was slouching into the soft fabric of the couch. He suddenly felt how hot his heavy disguise attire was, taking off the jacket and cap. Suddenly he looked as much a gentleman as Jossem, a fine set of clothes revealed to be hiding beneath the shabby outfit. Had it not been for his sweaty skin, greasy hair and exhausted expression, he would have looked completely at home in the embrace of the surrounding luxury. At Jossems last comment, he raised his glass.
"Hear hear! Ill drink to that old boy! he said loudly, emptying his glass for the fourth time in as many minutes.
With a pleased and intoxicated smile, he reached for the glass again, then paused. With a glimmer of intellect gleaming in his eyes he forgot the wine and turned to the others to join their conversation.
"You know lads, they have these kinds of establishments in London as well, but that hasnt stopped the streets from flooding with whores. And why should it, not every woman forced into this line of work has the looks to find work in these establishment. Now this may not be London, but ill bet you anything they have common street walkers here as well. We probably shouldnt feel too sure old Jackie wont be able to find easier prey somewhere else."
In the short silence that followed the end of his last sentence, he slouched back on the couch, then reached for another refill.
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Shrugging at the investigator the priest says, "If you wish to pursue aid to the Madam, I will not stop you, but I may try to find better use for my time than acting a pimp for this woman. Perhaps follow Richard's thought of finding more likely victims for the Ripper. If any wish to join me I would welcome the company in this strange place."
"Father, she may also know of those girls who aren't part of her establishment. Either keeping tabs on them as competition or simply as contacts. I know you would rather not lend anything part to her business, but she's entrenched in this work. If girls have seen the Ripper, she can probably find out."
Roland watches the interplay, "If we're to split up I think I'll go with Tommy, if he's agreeable, to see about the playwright."
Internally he's conflicted, but reason tells him this capable woman is currently their best hope for obtaining reliable information quickly. While searching amongst the less-refined working girls could yield results, assisting Madam Corbeaux seemed the better long-term investment.
Joss sighs and then shrugs. "Well, Chinaman? Would you be willing to go with Richard or do you want to go with the Detective here? I figure we should keep the groups even just in case we run into trouble. If you don't want to go with Dick, then I'll go with him and the Father."
"I will stay with Mr. Richard and the good Father. There are items I would like to find...equipment and such that may help us. Perhaps we can do that while asking around?"
Richard eyed Ang with a quizzical look "Whats he working at? Does he plan vengeance?". His eyes widened as his paranoid thoughts swelled within his skull. "No, get a hold of yourself, thats crazy...but still. I better have a talk with him, find out what his angle is."
Walking over to Ang, Richard leaned in to whisper.
"Why do you want to go with me? Is this about what happened back in the woods? Now, I cant personally remember any of it, but im told I was...less than agreeable towards you? Maybe you are thinking about getting me alone? Beat on me some more while the Fathers back is turned?" He leaned in closer, shifting his feet nervously and putting a hand on Angs shoulder, as if to give more weight to his words. "Listen here, theres no reason to get all up in arms over a little misunderstanding is there? Tell you what, ill even apologize for what happened, even if I cant remember it. How does that sound then hmm? Water under the bridge?" Finishing his speech, his other hand came up, hand waiting for Ang to "shake on it".
Ang looks blandly at the mans hand, almost not taking it, but remembering that these crazy Englishmen were his only contact to home, and even if they thought his a lesser person, he would keep his principles and those taught to him by his grandfather.
Ang takes the nobleman's hand in a firm grasp and holds it, pulling the man slightly closer to his so he can speak quietly in his ear.
"I am willing to let things that have happened between us be forgotten if you will submit to my care. You are sick and need help. I can wish my grandfather was her for he knows how to treat the illness that rides you so roughly, alas there is just me. With the right equipment and herbs, I believe I can free you from the dragon's grasp, but you need to follow my instruction. If you are not willing, I cannot force you, but neither will I assist you. I leave this decision to you."
With that said, he releases Richard's hand.
Taking a step back as Ang suddenly let go after his short speech, Richard did his best to hide his flustered reaction to what had been said, instead turning towards the others with a smile, raising a thumbs up in their direction and speaking a bit loud so everyone could hear.
"Good lad Ang, then thats all settled."
His decision was an easy one to make. It had been months, if not years, it was hard to tell, since he had truly enjoyed his vice. It had continued only out of habit, and the terrible withdrawal symptoms which had gotten the best of him with every failed attempt to quit. But at the same time, the bliss of resigning himself to the drugs loving embrace, was likely all that had stood between him and a bullet through the brain, at once his salvation and damnation.
Placing a hand on Angs shoulder once more, partly to reassure the others further, but mostly as an excuse to get close enough for another quickly whispered message, he said:
"Very well then, you are welcome to try. Ive failed more times than I care to count, but maybe it takes one herb to defeat another?"
And with that, his hand retreated. Moving over to stand with Jossem, he tried to strike up some casual conversation with his young friend.
"So, Jossem young man, what do you think of the madams establishment? A worthy rival to what London has to offer?"
"If she doesn't have half the city's clientele already, she's doing something wrong. A place like this, I would wager she sees a lot of wealthy and influential patrons."
He looks to Ang and nods. "Good. I'll go with Tommy and the Detective. We'll see if we can earn a bit of goodwill from the Madam. Plus, maybe this chap knows something about the Ripper too."
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Nodding at the ill-concealed interaction between Richard and Ang Father Paidraig seems somewhat releaved. Good, we need to be able to depend on each other if we are going to survive whatever this crucible is that we face.
Clearing his throat he says, "Richard any suggestions on where we might look for potential victims of the Ripper and search for rumors? I'm guessing you might have more insight on that than I..."
Having reached a plan of action, Roland steps out to address the Madame, and (assuming he locates her) explains, "Three of our number shall be assisting with your problem, Madame. We are eager to help." and gives her his winning-est smile. I hope we are doing the right thing, he thinks to himself.
The group finds Madame Corbeaux outside. She merely nods, her expression unchanging, when Roland informs her of their agreement.
"I am glad to hear this. You are all welcome to stay the night, as previously mentioned, upon your return. You will find this Monsieur Watson at his playhouse. There is a market plaza north of here, near the northeastern gate. The playhouse should be easily found off that plaza. He calls the place "The New Globe Theater."
"Do not tarry long after dark. This city can be unwelcoming to strangers."
Joss looks at Clive and his eyes sparkle. "We have a room for the night here. I imagine it will be much more...comfortable than on the ground by a fire." He stops and looks back at Corbeaux.
"Madam, is there something wrong with this place after dark? Is there something preying on people?" he asks with the Ripper clearly on his mind.
The woman scoffs.
"I did not intend to sound so... melodramatic is the word, oui?" She smiles. "This is a city like so many others, and all cities have their appetites, oui? And strangers can be such easy morsels for the hungry."
Jossem laughs. "Forgive me! We seem to be chasing a monster and it has made me a bit jumpy. Of course, our own city of London has basic miscreants at night too. We certainly can wait until morning to find Mr. Watson."
"Now, perhaps a room and bath, Madam? We've come a long way and it hasn't been as nearly pleasant as this place." He winks at her.
Rolands eye's twinkle right along with Joss's at the mention of staying the night here. But he turns his attention to the Madame, thinking about work before... other things, "When does the sun set? Perhaps we have time to visit him now?"
"You've a few hours. Sunset tonight will be just past the six."
Roland gives Joss a regretful smile, "Sounds like we have time to pay a visit to this 'New Globe Theater'. North to the market plaza, and the place will be just off there. What do you say?" The detective's curiosity and natural penchant for action has him extremely excited.
Richard shrugged at the Father question. Back home he would have likely been offended by the remark, even if it was true, but right here and now, in this place, at this time, he was too tired to care. And he wasnt about to make one enemy in the group after settling with another.
"What experience I have with such things has been had in places like this one" he motioned at the Madams establishment. "I cant rightly say I have much expertice on the habits of street walkers. Although its likely to be the shabby parts of town where those who cannot afford the higher class are to be found. But again, that is a guess at best."
Joss looks over at the girls and then back to the Detective. "I suppose, Clive. Might be good to see more of this city anyway." He stands and straightens his clothing. He grabs his steel capped cane and motions for the Detective to lead on.
The group moves as one to the market. The late afternoon seems to have brought a lull, as the crowd is thin. A few stalls are here and there around the plaza, with brick and mortar shops dominating every building that lines the square. Off the plaza, a garishly painted sign can be seen denoting
The New Globe Theatre Presents!
A New Play by
A Herbalist is, of course, there as well, a small brick and mortar shop wedged between a dilapidated tavern and a pawn shop.
Ang makes his way into the herbalist's shop. He is looking for the ingredients needed to help Mr. Foxworthy.
"Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble.."
Curious to learn what Ang would need to cure him, Richard followed the chinaman into the small shop. But behind the curiosity was also a subconcious hope that the shop might hold a more emideate remedy to sate his needs "Surely he wouldnt deny me one last spell to drive away these terrible consequences of quitting. Yes, one last hurrah before my treatment."
Entering the herbalist, the senses are assaulted by the exact opposite of La Fleur Rose. This place a mishmash of heavy smells, the air is thick with the mixture of the herbs plants and other miscellany that hang from the walls and ceilings, the fine powders arrayed in tins smoked-glass jars, and the rather large man dozing behind the counter.
Of comical proportions to the cramped shop, the man dominates the area behind the counter, propped against the wall, breathing heavily.
There is plenty here, and much variety. Pretty much anything mundane one would need to make could be purchased.