Fíriel blinks a few times. "Excuse me, Master Elf... did your bird... are you a ventriloquist as well as magician?"
"These items are all too big for me to use, but thank you for the offer."
Randall picks the pile that is short a copper, thrilled with the windfall.
"What do you do, Njord, when you aren't brawling with bandits?"
"HAR!"
"Njord Bjornson (NeeYord BeeYornson) I'm an herbalist little man. I make ointments, poultices, and compacts for the sore, sick, and those that have a hard time getting stiff", the big ulfen finishes with a wink and a leading glance down toward the halfling's trousers.
"What about you? You seem to know your way around those knives well enough."
More blushing and looking somewhere else. In response to the question about his knife skills, "When you are among the wrong people, you learn to defend yourself or you disappear. I spent too much time around such people in years past. I'm working hard to reform myself, to get off the streets, so I have been running messages and delivering packages for the last few months." He winks, "So far, so good, but I've never had as much coin at once as I do right now."
Fíriel listens and watches as the two men interact, also blushing at the big Ulfen's lack of subtlety.
Njord laughs again warmly.
"Well Riddleport's not the best place to come clean but it can be done. Why don't ya see if Saul needs a hand. He seemed real sorry about the whole mess tonight. Maybe he can find work for you to make things right?"
"What about you sweetheart? Randall tells me you're his girl. Is that true?" Njord says with a wink at the halfling.
Fíriel tilts her head and raises an eyebrow at the Ulfen, sneaking a conspiratory wink at Randall. "Oh he does, does he? You all haven't been talking about a girl behind her back, have you?"
The night passes uneventfully, and everyone gets an excellent night's rest. Morning brings smells of fresh-baked biscuits, hot coffee, sizzling shark bacon, steaming porridge and huge plates of fresh fruit, the last no doubt purchased from the "Wizards for Fresh Fruit" teleportation delivery service. The meal is served in the atrium between the rooms, and everyone's clothing has been cleaned and laid out in each one's room during the night.
The gaming area has been thoroughly cleaned, and shows hardly any evidence of the previous night's excitement.
Njord happily and noisily feasts as he studies the freshly clean and mended clothing laying out before him.
"Saul must really feel bad about the whole situation last night", he says between bites. "I think I could get used to this. Har!"
Antal grins. "Well, this is a great improvement."
Fíriel tilts her head and raises an eyebrow at the Ulfen, sneaking a conspiratory wink at Randall. "Oh he does, does he? You all haven't been talking about a girl behind her back, have you?"
Randall hears the big man's claim and is about to protest when he catches the girl's wink. Realizing they are all just having a little fun, he doesn't say anything, just shaking his head.
"You are right, for sure, Njord, about going clean in Riddleport. I wonder if Saul would have something for a fast-footed halfling. I could certainly do much worse."
After Firiel asks the question:
Jametor looks at Firiel for a moment, then glances at the others.
"No, I am not a ventriloquist. Swiftwing can speak, actually she can sometimes speak too much. She does alright with most words, but mostly uses small words and sentences here and there. She learns words by hearing them, most likely picked up some of my language skill from our empathic link."
Meanwhile Swiftwing spends her time preening and cleaning herself, not satisfied with the magic trick Jametor performed to clean her.
Next morning
Jametor and Swiftwing leave their room and join everyone in the atrium for the meal. Jametor fills a plate filled with fruit and a biscuit crumbled some, which he sits on an end of the table. Swiftwing hops up and begins eating, sometimes dropping a piece of food to the floor and dropping down to tear it apart, if it's too big.
Jametor fills another plate with different kinds of food and fills a large mug of coffee. As he sips the coffee, you can tell he enjoys the taste. As he sits down you realize he also has the spellbook from the battle, he opens it and waving his hand in front of his eyes and saying a few words, he begins reading the book, while eating his fruit, biscuit and bacon.
After a few minutes he glances up when Swiftwing makes a soft caw. As he looks around, it's like he just saw the rest of you.
"Oh, I apologize, this spellbook has some interesting spells and I seem to get lost in working through them. Good morning, how is everyone today, aches and pains gone I hope?
Randall waits to eat until Firiel appears and offers to help her get her food. Once she is seated, he helps himself, tucking in a prodigious amount of food for one so small.
In response to Jametor's question, he nods and swallows, "Quite well, thank you. I have never stayed in a place like this. It's quite... overwhelming, actually, but I think I could come to like it." He grins and digs in again.
Fíriel accepts Randall's help with a smile, yawning and stretching as she tries to wake up. I do miss my morning bath... but I guess it wouldn't be polite to comment on that now.
"It's very simple, but nice," she says, pausing between mouthfuls of breakfast. She, too, eats what would be a hearty meal even for a human.
Larur comes in as the group is finishing. The dwarf's face is haggard; it doesn't look like he got much sleep, and there seems to be something else weighing on him. Still, he smiles at the group in a friendly manner and offers morning's greetings.
"How're you all feeling this morning? Did you sleep soundly? Master Saul would like to speak with you when you've finished your breakfast... he's upstairs in his study."
"Well it only seems right that we wish our host a good morning", Njord says happily. "Show us the way!"
Stifling an appreciative belch - mostly - Randall nods happily and prepares to go meet their benefactor.
Jametor nods at Larur and gathers his things. Swiftwing grabs one last piece of biscuit and hops up to Jametor's shoulder.
Larur leads the way out of the atrium and behind the bar, through two doors and up the stairs. One final door later, the party finds itself in a spacious waiting area.
Two somewhat-worn suede couches sit before a roaring fire and low end table. A bell pull is visible in the southwest corner, and Saul is seated in a plush chair before the roaring fireplace. He stands as the party enters. "Good morning. I... hope you all slept well, and that you're fully recovered from last night's... ordeal."
He sighs and remains silent for a few moments, staring into the fire. Finally he looks back up at the group. "Most of my staff quit last night. Said I wasn't paying them enough to risk their lives."
He looks up at the group. "It's got to be true, what you said about last night being planned... probably one of the city's crime lords behind it, wanting to ruin me. Would've succeeded, too, if it weren't for you. But with most of my staff gone..." here Saul pauses to shake his head, then looks up and meets each of his guests' eyes. "Would you help me? I'll pay you, of course... ten gold a week, and a cut of whatever the hall makes. What do you say?"
Njord’s eyes go wide at the offer.
”Ten gold? That’s a fortune! It almost seems too good to be true…”
”I don’t know if I like the idea of tanglin’ with crime lords but I could use the coin”, the big ulfen says. ”What kind of work are we talking about?”
Jametor starts to talk, but then stops when Njord asks his question about what type of work it will be. He looks to Larur for his answer.
"Oh, you know, the usual... dealing for games if you've the skill, looking for cheaters from the catwalks, general guarding of the place... three of my guards stayed, but three isn't enough if the crime lords try something else. Maybe some of you who're good at talking could even talk to the townsfolk a bit, try to drum up a bit more business."
Njord gives Saul a suspicious look before resuming his usual jovial grin.
”Har! If that’s it, I’m your man!”
"Well, I do not speak for the others, of course, but I am here on an important mission to study the blot. I am not sure that my teachers at the Arcanamirium would be happy if I took time away from that to deal cards. No offense, but that might be below my growing talents."
Jametor stops and appears in thought for a few moments.
"Master Saul, it seems to me that you have a bigger problem. No amount of guards is going to be able to stop another attack by a determined force. This place is no keep. Wouldn't our skills be better used to try to determine who is trying to take your money and harm you? Again, I do not speak for my companions here, but I have certain abilities that might allow me to cipher out a concerted attack. Perhaps these others have complimentary skills..."
Jametor glances at his new companions.
"..that together we might be able to head off any attacks, allowing you to run this place peaceably?"
Jametor smiles, trying to put on a confident air.
Saul's eyes grow large at Jametor's words. "You... you want to go up against the crime lords? Master Elf, I understand that your... talents... are beyond such simple work as I do here, but might I suggest that... well, those who frequent my establishment might well be able to help you in your research."
He looks at the others, an appeal in his eyes.
The offer takes Randall by surprise. He looks at Firiel, wondering if she's reading his mind. "I have been looking for a good job, sir. I would be a fool to not give this a try. I'm not sure where I will serve best, but if you are willing to let me try, I'm in."
Saul smiles widely at the halfling's acceptance. "In you are then, little man! That makes two... how about the rest of you?"
"Well, my parents have been pestering me to get a job..." remarks Fíriel, with a little grin at Randall. "I'm 'in', too."
Randall gives her a big grin back.
Antal smiles. "I'm good at both being a watcher and I'm also quite a...persuasive speaker."
Stroking his chin, he looks at the prospective employer as though he were appraising his next big bet. "What sort of cut are we looking at?"
"How does thirty percent sound? To be split among the five of you."
"Plus room and board? Jametor asks.
Saul chuckles. "You drive a hard bargain, Master Elf — very well. Plus room and board."
Randall listens to the negotiations, eyebrows raised.
"I am in. I may not be as brawny as Njord there, but you will need some magical protection if last night's attack is anything to go by. You might even think about some magical dampening in the game room. I would probably be useful on the catwalks or perhaps as a decoy?"
Jametor ponders. After a few moments Swiftwing caws loudly.
"Oh yes and Swiftwing would be useful as well."
"I think I have a fairly good eye for watching. If you need someone to carry fliers about, I think I can help you there. I might be able to deal cards, too, but I need to learn the games better. I didn't do very well in the tournament..."
"Har! For ten gold pieces a week I'll do whatever ya want as long as it doesn't involve killing folks", Njord laughs.
"Excellent, excellent... and thank you. Larur will take you on a tour of the building and explain your duties."
Over the next hour, the party is shown most of the building (Larur explains that no one's allowed inside the vault or Saul's rooms). They're shown a dining room upstairs where they may dine with Saul daily, and a spacious private apartment, also upstairs, which will be the group's for the duration of their employment.
The remaining employees, apart from the group, are Larur and three guards, named Hans, Beyar, and Bjask. Larur explains that he'll be trying to hire some more help in the coming days, primarily for cooks and cleaning staff. The hall will be closed for a day until that can be done, but there are still other tasks that need doing!
After stopping by his shop to pick up some materials, Njord hits the streets. Riddleport wasn't a place for the soft-hearted and despite his outwardly jovial appearance, the big ulfen knew how to throw his weight around when push came to shove. After rolling up his sleeves to look like a proper brute, Njord makes his way to some of the tougher taverns looking to strongarm some customers.
After Jametor moves his stuff to the apartment, he goes out onto the streets of Riddleport to the less rough parts of the town and begins to perform a few magic tricks, simple things that any first year wizard would know. In addition, he convinces Swiftwing to assist him in trying to get folks to gather around him.
Then, with his best smile, he explains how the unfortunate altercation within the Gold Goblin has been dealt with and with new and experienced people in place, the place is again a great place to visit and try their luck.
"Well, I don't know that I'm going to be much help making a poster, it's not my thing. I will head out into the streets and sell people on visiting the Gold Goblin."
"I'll try to convince people, too."
"I can be very persuasive when I need to be." The short man says, with a sparkle in his eyes, as he heads off to convince people to visit the Gold Goblin and see just what made it so appealing.
A few of the group manage to convince some people to stop by, while others' efforts are met with the type of looks given to madmen. The next evening is the re-opening, and Larur explains to the group the tasks that need completing.
0-Detect Magic, Read Magic, Prestidigitation, Resistance
1-Summon Monster 1 (school spell), Grease, Enlarge Person, Color Spray
Jametor will look for cheaters, with Swiftwing helping.
Randall will greet customers or look for cheaters, depending on where he is needed most.
Njord puts a healthy amount of fear into the patrons, doing his best to make sure drunken or rowdy types don’t get out of line.