Randall pulls the two daggers and hands one to Firiel.
"Forget you? Never! But I could probably fit a bit of celebration into my strict moving schedule."
Samaritha laughs merrily at Antal's comments. "My dear little man, excitement is the spice of life."
"The Goblin's been good to us but we spend every night there, how about a night on the town", the big man says.
"Randall, you know a place for a man to take his girl out for a good night out?"
As Jametor hears of the news he arrives to offer his congratulations.
"Smaritha, I hear you've been accepted to the cyphermages, excellent! Congratulations and best of luck to you in your studies. Perhaps you might remember me if and when you find something out about the blot? I know those mages are pretty secretive, but if you can share, I hope you will. Even though things here have distracted me, the blot is still the reason for my arrival. Again, congratulations and the best of luck and all that."
Jametor seems sincere if a bit jealous.
Randall considers the big man's question.
Randall knows of a nice restaurant in the Windward District of Riddleport. He's never been, but he's heard plenty of marks on the street talk about their expensive dinners there. There's even a nice walking area for after the meal.
Jametor just continues to work, as normal. During one of the days, he will use his last parchments to make Ant Haul into two scrolls, then switch back to his new prepared spell list.
In the off hours, Jametor might head down to the Cyphergate and see if any of the mages there will discuss the blot with him.
"Firiel, what do you say we join Njord and Samaritha, if they are willing to have company, of course."
"Har! I'm sure Sam wouldn't mind a double date."
Fíriel smiles. "I'd be delighted to!"
The short man just looks to Jametor. "Don't even suggest it being a three couple date. Don't even."
He chuckles and strokes his chin. "I wonder if they have a bar."
"Antal, I may be an idiot in social situations but you can rest assured that I will not ask you to be a date. Perhaps we should stay back and let the love birds go it alone. We can keep watch on the Gold Goblin and discuss magic theory or something. Not that I don't find your company entertaining.."
Jametor shrugs.
Fíriel and Samaritha disappear for a few hours, and reappear at the appointed time to meet their escorts. Both are adorned in fine dresses and tastefully-placed jewelry. Fíriel's dress is a pale lavender with a high collar and cuffs in dark purple lace, while Samaritha wears a delicate golden gown which combines with her red hair to produce the appearance of shifting and flickering flames.
The two couples make their way to Tánc Homár, drawing stares and a few whistles from passersby. They are seated promptly, and the waiters serve a light melon julep to begin their evening. The meal itself is chosen by the head chef, after a few inquiries to the diners.
The first offering is a salad with sliced watercress and hazelnuts, sprinkled with an oil and herb mixture of the chef's own invention. After that comes a creamy chowder with fluffy white rolls and dark brown bread, followed by steamed lobster and eel on a bed of lightly-sautéed spinach. The dessert is a cobbler of peaches and berries with a crunchy oat and nut topping.
Njord heartily enjoys the fancy vittles.
"So what's the cyphergate and joining the cypermages mean to you? I was never studying type but it obviously important to you”, he asks before filching a bite from her plate.
Jametor spends a few days trying to get the cyphermages to speak with him, but is largely unsuccessful. He does manage to overhear a conversation between two of them, but it's in a language with which he isn't familiar.
Samaritha pokes at the Ulfen's hand playfully with her fork, but relents and lets him take his prize. She smiles. "It's been my dream for years; I came here all the way from Magnimar just to try to get an apprenticeship. It's not so much the mages themselves as it is the Gate... it's so intriguing. I want to know where it came from, and why it's there, and what it was for! But now the mages are so distracted by the Blot that I'm wondering if it's even worth getting the apprenticeship. I mean, of course I'm still excited about receiving it, it's just... well, I hope they get back to studying the Gate soon."
She takes another bite before continuing. "What about you? I'll wager you didn't grow up here."
Antal will probably be trying to get in touch with the cypher mages, as well as locals from that part of town that might have seen the young lady before her untimely death or seen any other unusual things.
”Well that Blot thing is strange…”
The big ulfen gets a self-conscious when the topic changes to his origins.
”Har! Nah, I’m not from around here. I was born up north, in the land of the Linnorm Kings. It’s all snow and ice trolls up there, you wouldn’t like it. That’s why I left. It’s too cold.”
”Anyway, Riddleport’s my new home. I like it here. It’s warm and a good place for a man to disappear.”
”The company’s not bad either”, he says with a wink.
They go on to discuss the fact that no one seems able to explain the existence of the hovering shadow. Argentus Blakely (a noted Cyphergate scholar) has postulated that the Blot is some sort of convergence for focusing arcane energies, but he has yet to prove his hypothesis. One of the wizards mentions that Blakely is supposedly running several experiments to test the validity of his theory; the other smirks knowingly and shakes his head.
Samaritha raises one eyebrow at the tales of the cold north, then smiles at his compliment. "It sounds perfectly awful up there..." she says, with a knowing look. "I do hope you aren't planning to disappear any time soon..."
The charismatic halfling manages to get an audience with one of the lower-level cyphermages. "Can I help you? I'm rather busy with my research, but they tell me you're some important official or somesuch, so what is it?"
"Oh indeed. I've actually been trying to get in contact with one of you all for a bit of time. One of my colleagues is a budding wizard and finds the cyphermages to be just utterly fascinating. I understand you all must be immensely busy. I was hoping you might like to meet my friend and I for dinner and a drink. Totally on us, of course."
The halfling just smiles widely. "I think just meeting you and being able to ask some basic questions would really make his day. You'd probably seem like a big celebrity to him, and it'd really mean a great deal to me, as well."
The young mage grins back. "Well, I'm never one to turn down a free drink... I mean, of course, an opportunity to speak with others who share my interests. I'm awfully busy, of course, but I suppose I could spare a few hours this evening."
"Let me go ahead and give the good news to my friend, and I'll send a message along shortly to specify the time and place, since you're so busy. That way, you don't have need to deal with a real interruption again." He smiles and extends a hand.
"Once again, I really appreciate it, and I have no doubt we'll be seeing you later for that drink."
After getting a shake, he heads back to relay the good news to Jametor.
Randall whispers to Firiel, "Um, what are these?" about several of the dishes. His palate is far from educated and he hopes she knows what's what. Being a halfling, he'll eat most anything, but he's curious...
He's so distracted by the food that he really speaks little otherwise.
Fíriel explains in quick whispers, using the Halfling tongue to minimize the danger of embarrassing Randall. She eats daintily, looking up at Randall now and then to smile before taking another bite.
He grins back. Realizing he's not eating 'stylishly,' he starts taking smaller, more genteel bites, but he's worried the waiter will show up wanting to clear for the next course before the halfling is ready.
As she finishes up her portion of cobbler, Fíriel sighs contentedly. "That," she says, "was one of the best meals I've had in a while."
Randall shakes his head. "I have never had a meal like this. Never ever."
Njord leans over with a mischievous grin on his bearded features.
"We've finished dinner and had dessert", he says with a playful growl. "How about we go for a walk and then head back to the Goblin for somethin' sweeter?"
The big ulfen glances at Firiel and Randall, "The little ones can finish up without us."
Samaritha chuckles softly. "I wouldn't mind looking at some of the houses in this part of town," she confesses. "And I suppose I don't have anything urgent to do the rest of the evening, either..."
Once the bill is paid, the two depart.
Fíriel smiles over at Randall. "It's been a lovely evening, Randall. I must go and visit with my parents this evening; I promised them I'd check in with them. I hope you'll excuse me?"