The older gentleman's eyebrows raise in an expression of some excitement. "Indeed Madame, indeed. We hoped for an applicant such as yours. Do please come in." He shows you into a sitting room then adds "I will return in some minutes." He departs the sitting room, leaving you alone.
Madame Crixton sets her bag neatly by a chair and sits, taking the time to examine her surroundings.
After ten minutes, the old valet returns with a well-dressed noblewoman, about thirty years old, who looks tired and harried as she bustles into the room. "I hear you are a tutor, Madame Crixton. I am Countess Harcourt. We may have a position for you. It would please me if you gave an overview of your experience and of your approach to educating children."
Fyrtor casts barkskin on himself and moves to block the door the barman was headed for, trying to not let the heady euphoria over power him as he strides into the yellow-green fog.
"How are you holding up Khaz."
"Living the dream!" He called out, as the butt of his weapon hit one of the bouncers in the jaw.
"A pleasure to meet you, m'Lady. I have been a tutor for some time now. Most recently, I spent the last decade educating Rebecca Quinn, the only daughter of Lord and Lady Quinn, a small but proud family whose holdings are located some sixty miles due east of Elen, along the border with the Bishopric of Helm. She was eight when I became her tutor, and has now completed her course of education. Here is the letter of recommendation that My Lord Quinn wrote for me when I decided to relocate to Bannerhold." She passes over the folder that she has been holding.
"As for my pedagogical approach, I believe firmly in the traditional Iustian curriculum, beginning with a solid foundation in grammar, logic and rhetoric, and proceeding from there to studies in arithmetic, geometry, music, and arcana. I can offer competent instruction in all of these areas. I must confess, however, that I am no magician, and so my lessons on arcana are theoretical rather than practical. Similarly, when it comes to music I aim to teach an appreciation of fine music more than its performance. For the young Mistress Quinn I added instruction in dancing, household management and other womanly arts."
Noting Lady Harcourt's weariness, she adds "For a boy, I would certainly retain dancing, as it behooves a young gentleman to dance well. I might also give him at least an overview of household management, if only so that he might learn to appreciate the contribution of his mother and any future wife. But it might be best to seek a more specialized instructor for more manly accomplishments."
Túrion is not pleased with what he learns. Avinoax had deposits of Darkwood as well, tending to them carefully. Clearly, the humans they were dealing with had not learned from the mistakes of their past, and would repeat their errors for the sake of profit. In the Bishophry, and likely elsewhere.
Of course, there was also the question how they had arranged to make the purchase in the first place - this kind of resource, especially with restrictions to their exploitation, usually did not end up in foreign possession - after all, if the foreigners broke the law and were to chop down a whole forest, then vanished back home, there would be little chance to bring them to court over it...
Túrion did remember that Alabaster was rumored to enjoy...puchased company. And he HAD planned to visit the brothel to check on any additional leads, and to pick up Isabella for the evening.
The piracy angle just framed the whole picture. Túrion was certain that intermediaries and precautions were in place to make it all but impossible to bring Harcourt to justice for this, but it was proof of his guilt regardless - he would not hesitate or doubt if conflict would arise.
Of course, if he cooperated with one pirate, there was a good chance he'd do the same with others. Local ones, and ones that may be easier to link to someone - after all, a shipping empire would benefit greatly from being left alone by pirates, only suffering occasional raids on highly insured cargo shipped by inconvenient or expendable personal, while rival companies would be targetted relatively more often.
Certainly, there would be insurance claims and a means to average out the frequencies of attacks, compared with other shipping companies.
Lady Harcourt sighs and nods. "That all sounds adequate. But I am more concerned regarding how you would handle a recalcitrant noble youth. This is a very delicate matter."
It is clear from her tone that Lady Harcourt would not countenance corporal punishment of her son but also that she is lacking other ideas about how to discipline him.
Turion ponders the matter of the darkwood and is confident that it would be difficult for Harcourt's agents to cut down the trees and sell them before the Helmian authorities stepped in. While darkwood is very valuable, it is also very bulky and cutting it is a laborious process requiring many men. Harcourt won't be able to get a return on his investment for many generations unless there is a legal/governmental change in the Bishopric.
Regarding the odd land purchases by Alabaster, Turion is confident that a well-written legal brief could point out these repeated transactions, compare them to the value of similar land parcels, and make a strong case that Harcourt was funneling funds to Alabaster (DC 20 K nobility or relevant lore or profession and would take 3 hours). Such a brief would not prove much on its own but could prove a key piece of a legal case.
Given that Mel and Harold are infiltrating Harcourt's estate, Turion indeed thinks that investigating Tyron Alabaster further could prove profitable, more definitively linking him in either direction or both, the pirates or Harcourt.
Turion deciphers, from various mentions and oblique references, that Tyron Alabaster took a personal trip to an unknown location off the coast of the Bishopric of Helm some three months before the pirate attacks of Gertrude van Beem intensified sharply. While this is not conclusive, it is a suggestive piece of evidence worth retaining.
Kazador leaves one of the men staggering but doesn't quite bring him down. Fyrtor moves over to close with the barman, who stands wistfully in the cloud. The bouncers bravely keep trying to bring Kazador down, unsure why he is so hard to hit since they can't see his armor.
[Ooc]10 attacks on Kaz but 1 hit for 5 dam.[/dice]
Pulling his punches wasn't easy, but Kazador didn't really want to kill these men. He had spent enough time in bars and taverns that he had gotten to know quite a few bouncers. It was even a job he had dabbled in back in the day. It was never easy to kill people that you sympathized with, though that was also something he had experience with. At the moment he didn't see the two men as being a true threat to his safety due to his armor, so he instead focused on bringing them down in a way that would give them a horrible week of recovery, rather than a plot in the ground.
"I am glad you asked. I believe disciplinary responsibilities should be negotiated with the parents. At my previous position, I was authorized to reprimand young Mistress Quinn or assign her additional studies as a penalty for minor infractions -- slouching, daydreaming when she should be working, and so on. For any more serious infractions -- such as the time she pranked a visiting cousin by releasing nearly fifty baby chickens in the guest room -- I was to refer the matter to her parents. In that instance, they chose to withhold her desserts for three weeks, make her apologize to the cousin, and thoroughly clean the entire suite herself without any assistance."
"I would be equally comfortable taking a direct hand, referring everything to you, or anything in between."
She pauses before delicately asking, "I take it your child -- or children? -- are, shall we say, high spirited?"
Kazador knocks out another bouncer and lays a hard blow on the other one. The patrons are getting very concerned at this point and start fleeing into the rooms to the north, away from the mad dwarf and his magic friend.
Lady Harcourt gives a sigh and slumps her shoulders a fraction before resuming her regal posture. "Master Harcourt is high spirited indeed. If you must, bring serious matters to me. But deal with as many as you are able." She taps her foot absentmindedly, clearly thinking of a dozen other things to do. "What wages do you desire?"
"I would further propose an evaluation period. Let us try it for a week and see how things go. If everything seems to be going smoothly, then we can make it a long-term arrangement. If not, well, either one of us can then back out."
Lady Harcourt calms somewhat as you enter negotiations. Apparently, this is familiar and comfortable ground for her. She shakes her head. "If I provide you with room and board in such an estimable house as this" she gestures around proudly "then I will pay you seven crowns for the week." She smiles, sure of herself. "As for the evaluation period, I agree."
One bouncer still stands while the barman stands fascinated in the cloud. But you haven't been exactly quiet and patrons are scrambling and shouting. Who knows who else in the building has heard your goings on?
The noblewoman sighs languidly, both stressed and fond. "I have one son, Arthur. He is ten years old but has been very resistant to any form of book-learning. He is very clever but has it is almost as if he hates books on principle. I cannot fathom him at this age. Anyhow, I must be off." She bustles off, leaving you in the capable hands of the valet. When you ask, he nods solemnly.
"Yes Madame. I will show you the pertinent areas." He begins limping around the home slowly, especially on the stairs.
Fyrtor seeing Khazador had 5he bouncers in hand and that the bartender was sufficiently distracted for the moment begins preparing for the Reapers counterstrike.
Túrion is glad that the darkwoods seem save, for now. Considering their location, density, and options for transport, it seemed nigh impossible to secretly harvest them.
Making sure that in any kind of court case Alabaster would be linked to Harcourt seemed pretty important. Even if they could get Harcourt with the material the others were currently after, it would not do to have some rogue agent of him loose and pulling strings for his master.
So Túrion took the time to prepare a series of examples, comparisons, and arguments explaining how money was funneled to the minor noble.
And while he was at that, he would try and learn more about what Alabaster was up to more recently -
- but it seems that there was no pattern to follow in the documents archived currently.
Turion does not manage to figure out more about Alabaster from the writings in front of him.
The last standing bouncer looks down at his friends in concern and notes they are still breathing. This seems to make a big difference and he determinedly keeps swinging at Kazador, trying to headlock the dwarf, but being shoved off or dodged at every turn.
Meanwhile, Fyrtor stands in the cloud.
You hear multiple people moving about quickly and quietly, not speaking, on the other side of the door. They don't seem to be drawing closer to the door.
For his part Kazador was tiring. Blocking multiple attacks while trying to take down trained pugilists in a non-lethal manner was quite taxing. Sweating and breathing heavy, he made a pair of wild sweeps just to force the man back so he could catch his breath.
Fyrtor fights off the coying mist and finishes his spell, summoning three aether elementals. In Auran he orders them, "Follow and hold the people I point to." 5o Khaz he calls, "Khaz we need to get a move on. Finish with that bouncer and catch up."
He then heads through the door.
As you take the tour, the valet inquires "If you do not mind, Madame, tell me of your family." You see the ground floor and the second floor, mostly matching Turick's descriptions. The kitchens bustle with busy servants preparing a meal while Count Harcourt and some friends sit in the hall, conversing animatedly about hunting. He raises an eyebrow as you pass and the valet bows his head. "A new tutor." Harcourt grunts and nods to you.
Upstairs, he points out the various rooms but does not show you inside any but the wash room and your room, which has a modest bed, a chamber pot, a window, and a chest for your use.
The valet is inquiring to determine whether to treat you as a lesser noble or as a middle class woman.
Madame Crixton walks intot the room and studies it with an appraising eye. She sets her bag on the bed and remarks "This will do nicely."
"As for family, I have none, any longer," Madame Crixton says briefly. "Father was a moderately prosperous merchant in Elen. Mother ran his household. Both passed away a number of years ago now, and I have no siblings. I don't believe I caught your name, sir?"
The valet inclines his head in a gesture of sympathy and immediately seems more casual and comfortable knowing that you are not a noble. "I am Ernest. If everything is well, I expect young master Harcourt will be in the nursery ready to begin lessons fifth bell."
Mel picks out a two creaky floorboards and predicts where the shadows will lie deepest in the hall at night.
Ernest inclines his head. "Perhaps you should know that young Master Harcourt has had a great deal of turnover in his tutors. None have lasted more than a month in recent memory." He looks around quietly then adds in a low tone "And that the Count has a short temper."
Kazador swings twice and misses twice as the canny bouncer avoids what is now abundantly, obviously, a dangerous weapon.
The elementals appear and prepare to aid Fyrtor who ducks through the door where he finds the kitchens. Two young women who appear to be kitchen maids stand there. One whips off her apron and holds a blade out between her and Fyrtor while jerking her head to a door to the south. The second darts through the door.
The bouncer tries to land another lucky punch on Kazador but does not manage it this time.
"Ye know, if ye weren't working for fookin' Reapers, I'd buy ye a drink." Kazador said, as he landed a blow into the man's gut. "Stay down, aye? It's hard enough to nay spill brains when dancin' like this."
"I understand," Madame Crixton says, inclining her head graciously. "My thanks."
After unpacking her small selection of clothing and supplies, Madame Crixton marches down the hall to the nursery. She pauses before opening the door, checking it onver in case Young Master Harcourt decided to greet his new tutor with a bucket of sour milk over the door or similar.
"Madame Crixton" gives the door a more thorough looking over than a young miscreant could ever prepare for and finds it to be safe. She enters and finds master Harcourt seated primly at a desk in the nursery. He smiles and speaks with very intentional diction "It is wonderful to meet you, Madame Crixton." You have a small desk in the nursery that faces his.
[spoiler=DC 10 sense motive for "Eugenia"]
The boy is obviously concealing some mischief, somewhere, with excessively polite manners.
[/spoiler]
Hmm, Madame Crixton thinks. His grammar is good. When he wants it to be, no doubt.
"Good morning, Master Harcourt," she responds. "I am pleased to meet you as well." She walks over to the window and looks out into the street. "It is a lovely day outside. I might be willing to shift your studies outside today."
She turns back to the boy. "That is, if you can persuade me that would be a good idea."
The boy's expression changes to one of interest. He pauses for a moment then begins enthusiastically "Ammonitus suggests that people are made to learn in a natural environment. Francis III gave all of his lectures outside and his pupils changed Iustia with their learning. And multiple authorities have said that outside is the best place to learn natural history."
Madame Crixton purses her lips. "A credible effort. And sufficient, I think, though in future note that it is unwise to rely on appeals to authority alone. Come, we will clear it with your mother."
Madame Crixton seeks out Lady Harcourt. Just outside of Master Harcourt's hearing she tells the Lady that she wishes to take young Master Harcourt to the park -- partly to get to know him, but also to assess is mathematical skills using examples drawn from the environment. "Do you approve this outing? Also, do you wish to send a guard along?" she asks.
The woman stabs Fyrtor as he tries to move around her (4 dam) but he opens the door and finds the maid who fled, grabbing papers out of a hidden floor safe.
The bouncer gives Kazador a wary but dull-witted stare. "Reapers?" He shudders as he throws out his next set of punches but the man is clearly wearing down and doesn't have what it takes. A competent pugilist, but he is no heroic warrior like Kazador.
You meet Isabella later that evening at the brothel. She wears a clean gray dress and her hair is tied back with a blue ribbon. The young woman looks presentable in most circles but would be looked down on in high society.
Lady Harcourt looks surprised by Madame Crixton's unusual methods but gives her harried assent as she rushes off to some social function.
In the park, Arthur quickly becomes engaged by the learning as if it is a game. His extremely polite presentation fades into a more casual but more genuine engagement. Madame Crixton is unable to determine the exact state of the boy's education but he seems bright.
He seems confused at first when his tutor wishes to discuss his home life, rather than simply academic studies. But he warms to the idea over time and begins chatting, perhaps too eagerly. Much of what he says is quite predictable but he does describe many of his fathers frequent visitors (K nob to sort out who's who from his partial descriptions and occasional name-dropping). Arthur also enthusiastically describes his father's recent purchase of several books on maritime law, which the boy has "borrowed" from the Count's study when he's had occasion.
"It always bothers me when someone underlines passages in a book or dog-ears a page. I am only allowed to purchase one book a month! How could they damage something? For example, there was an entire passage on the hegemonic decree of Charles II that was dog-eared and underlined!" The boy shakes his head. "My father was very displeased when I found the books. He took them back and stormed into his study and has kept it locked tight since then. He worked on something all night but he must have put it away because his desk was quite clear the next day."
After a few minutes of chatter, he looks at his shoes and confesses. "Madame Crixton... I hid a snake in your desk. I apologize and will remove it for you when we return home."
The hegemonic decree of Charles II was made 90 years ago regarding the Feld Islands off the northern coast of Iustia (label added to largest island on the world map). The islands were independent but some of them had become havens for pirates. Despite mild protestation from the elders of the largest island, Charles II decreed Iustian hegemony over the islands in order to protect them and put an end to the pirates. Shortly thereafter, the islands were smoothly integrated as an Iustian possession.
Kazador winced as the man's innocence was laid bare. He didn't want to hurt him, but it was better than to let him walk away and cause more trouble. A better person would have tried talking things through, but Kazador was not that kind of person. He had done many horrible things in his life, and looking back, he knew that many had died at his hands who did not deserve it. And with every such death, his heart was hardened by that much more. He stepped forward and sought to end the unpleasant task.
"It sounds as though you like books, Master Arthur," Madame Crixton remarks. "Or some of them, anyway." And that doesn't square up with what your mother told me, she thinks internally. Almost, I am sorry I will not be tutoring this child for long. It sounds to me as though what he really wants is affection -- or at least attention -- from too-distant parents. A steady long-term tutor could do much to ease that.
"As for the snake, well, I've seen worse in my time." She thinks of the thirty-foot titan scorpion on the way to Kazad Gravr. "You seem a bright young man. Why did you decide to greet a new tutor that way?"
There was a good chance the girl was simply not used to certain customs, such as with fancy dining or at a play, and would mess up now and then - he didn't want her to feel discouraged to be herself. Joy was a better teacher than fear. With that, he offers her his arm, ready to depart.
Inside the hideout, several hours after Túrion left:
If not for the fact I am not yet starving, I would say it has been several moons since I last saw master. I hope he is fine doing his "research". He asked me to stay, and I will do his bidding, until my strength leaves me. It is lonely and these piled up stones confine me. I long for the forests, and for the times we alone would range through those with no worries. Master will be back, eventually. He always comes back. With how long he was gone already, I hope it will be within my life span.
"Crixton" deduces that Harcourt's visitors are usually well-known nobles, as she would expect. Her only observation of note is that Harcourt seems to have been meeting non-noble law and history experts more often than she would have expected.
Arthur looks abashed and shrugs. "I don't know. I usually hate my tutors so I play pranks on them... But you have been more reasonable."
The Madame has indeed seen Tyrion Alabaster in her fine establishment but purses her lips when his name is brought up. "A noble gentleman, to be sure. But behind closed doors, he raises questions as to whether or not he is a gentleman. If not for his rising favor in court, I would consider closing my doors to him." She sniffs as if this is an extreme condemnation. If asked for specifics, she describes the two bodyguards Alabaster generally keeps close to him: One is a broad woman of almost six feet in height and the other is a short man with spectacles.
[spoiler=Make a perception check.[/ooc]
Isabella nods and shyly takes the arm. She and Turion head to the opera, where the girl goggles at the price of admission and rich clothes worn by the other attendees.
Realizing that he's found what he needs Fyrtor commands the elementals "Stop her." He then focuses his attention on the woman attempting to hide the evidence and stepping forward and attacking.
Túrion was not a huge fan of this kind of theater. There were interesting stories to be told, certainly. But for most people, it was far too serious. To the actors and the guests. There was need for dramatics, and for overacting everything to the point the last row would understand the portrayed emotion. It felt forced, unnatural. It was an art form, certainly, and one not unknown to his kind. But in Avionax, it was mostly something for young elves, and a form of make-believe play. The actors still had roles, and a script, and if historic, good research for their role. But the flow was different. They did not attempt to portray a character as much as pretend to be that character. The subtle difference was that it was expected that they put their own interpretation and spin on who they played, rather than stick to a defined archetype. But this was what was available here, and he did want want to learn about foreign lands and cultures beyond all the things he read.
She quickly identifies it, and uses it as an impromptu lesson on reptiles, including how to identify and avoid poisonous serpents, their uses in keeping the rat population under control, and how to handle one safely.
When the lesson is over, she assigns Arthur to put the snake back where he got it. "And don't think you're getting away scot free," she adds. "Because of the snake, I want you to copy out the sentence 'The five boxing wizards jump quickly' ten times after dinner tonight. I shall check your work in the morning." She neglects to mention that this is designed to test his penmanship by making him write out every letter in the human alphabet repeatedly.
After dismissing Arthur, she reports back to Lady Harcourt. "The boy seems intelligent," she says. "When he is interested in a topic, I believe he is fully capable of sustained study. The difficulty lies in getting him interested and keeping him that way." She does not share her theory that Arthur has been acting out to get attention from his parents.
Madame Crixton changes into a nightgown, retiring somewhat early after dinner. She takes a nap for several hours -- retaining her disguise the while. But some time past midnight, she wakens again and begins her investigation. She ghosts down the hall to the study door and studies it intently.
Before trying the door, she checks for magic.
Once she's satisfied that manipulating the door won't trigger some kind of alarm, she gently tests the knob to see if it's locked.
Kazador FINALLY lays out the last bouncer, unconscious, on the tavern's floor.
Fyrtor manages to knock out the woman grabbing papers from the safe, taking advantage of her prone posture on the floor.
The aether elementals grab one of the women, who struggles in their telekinetic grasp and manages to wriggle out, stepping up toward Fyrtor with her weapon.
Turion doesn't notice anything of especial note.
The madame's eyes burn with a cold fury when Turion mentions that Alabaster's fortunes may soon change. "I, for one, would be interested to see that happen, good sir."
Isabella smiles and seems to liven up somewhat. "I doubt anyone would insult me openly in front of my escort."
Madame Crixton identifies the harmless snake and returns it to the garden. Arthur is impressed by her combination of book smarts and a cool head in a situation that would strike others as dangerous and frightening.
Madame Crixton carefully examines the door and determines it is not trapped or alarmed. She does detect magic somewhere inside the study and determines there is a faint aura of transmutation in there. The door, as one would expect, is locked.