Anything else to add?
As he leaves
Interesting... maybe the other will be more forthcoming and deserve our goodwill in the future?
Once you are safely back in the carriage Naila says "So? What do you think? I think I actually believe his claim about him not being behind the murder. Still he knows more than he told us..."
"Indeed, which is why he was useless to us. We'll need to find leverage to gain anything useful from him."
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"I agree with Lady Naila, he sounded sincere in his protestations of innocence. It's possible that he is too accomplished a Liar for us to detect his lies, but I am prepared to believe him, for now. As to whether he will support anyone remains to be seen. If he opposes us, he will be defeated, if he supports us he is welcome but if he remains neutral, we should respect that. Guess we should speak to the Harlot."
"While his security was not invincible, it certainly offered a different challenge to the attack on your father. I find it hard to believe no scouting was done, unless our quarry had a way to be sure who would win the auction."
"Perhaps they made their plans only after it was decided? Still the auction was held in a private lobby in the queen's palace. The winner should only be known to those who participate in the auction and the staff who are all sworn to secrecy. Ah yes the harlot...I need to take care of things at the manor for a time so I will return home and you can visit her without me. I will give you a note that should get you in and my driver will bring you. I will of course expect a full report."
The carriage bring you back to the manor were Naila disembarks and then it rides backs into town.
The wagons rolled along and entered the city's exotic district. Some of the venues here were smaller than a simple dwelling, just mud boxes with four walls and men to accept the coppers that purchased admission.
Some didn't even have that much, but were rather canvas-walled tents, or woven stockades through which passersby could discern the faint shapes of
sinuous forms dancing to tambours and castanets—a calculated preview that was even more effective for what it gave away free. The shows the barkers espoused ran the gamut from traditional pageants and dancing troupes to erotic shadow plays and unnatural couplings that would make a Calistrian blanch.
As you continued along this course, the buildings got steadily larger and grander, becoming proper multistory theaters and performance halls. Though some still advertised illicit fare—as with much of the world, sex often prevailed where talent was scarce—these were as opulent as the strait-laced establishments, becoming true cabarets and brothels rather than backroom rutting halls. The young starlets who hung out of windows displaying their wares were as brown as sunbaked earth, dark hair loose or braided, and eyes dusted with jade or aquamarine. Most were beautiful, in the smooth-skinned Thuvian fashion, and many danced to better highlight their natural blessings.
You finally reach the end of the road and the largest building in this district. The elderly driver opens the door to the carriage for you. He looks up to the large building and whistle. "She has come a long way hasn't she? You know when I was still a lad I once saw the lady Jbade dancing when she was still a street performer. I learned more from watching her that day than from twenty years of marriage." he says with a grin. "The lady Anvanory has put the carriage at you disposal for the entire afternoon. Shall I wait here for you return?" he adds
"The lady Jbade is the 'Harlot' that we are here to see then? I would rather call her by her name than by her profession, unless it would be unseemly to do so here? And I think you should wait here, yes, as we may need your services further to follow other leads should we gain any." Bleyz says curtly. "If you were a young lad and she was already a working professional, she must be quite elderly herself now, unless she isn't human... I'm guessing that's why she wanted or needed the potion for herself."
"Certainly."
"Lady Jbade... lady jbade.. hmm hard to remember, .. yes this seems more like the environment where we shall find information on Razmirans or whoever"
The old driver grins again.
"She is getting old yes, but they say her mother was the most beautiful elf in kyonin, overcome for lust for a simple herdsman as her retinue passed trough Lamasara. The result was Jbade. Her mother left her in the care of her father after she was born and she returned to her home country. When she was in her prime, Jbade's dancing would make a calistrian temple whore blush. Half the nobles in Lamasara have attempted to claim her, but she refused every attempt to make her exclusive and instead raise her rates as the demand grew. Now she owns the most popular theatres in the city as well as the best brothels. Half this street is hers. If she doesn't dance anymore, it's not because she cant but because she doesn't have too. This is of course mostly rumours I hear on the streets but I suspect it is mostly true. I also would not call her "harlot" within earshot of any dancer around here. The term whore is also very frowned upon. They prefer dancer or exotic performer. I will await your return here then." replies the driver.
You approach the large manor. The walls were painted in brilliant desert colors, from sand yellow to the red of the sunset, yet these features paled in comparison to the decorations that lined the wide front porch.
The decorations were women. Women of all shapes and colors, from a black-skinned Zenj Mwangi woman with the proud shoulders of a jungle warrior to an impish Vudrani in saffron silks, and even a purplehaired gnome. Short and tall, willow-thin or well upholstered there was no question that each was striking in her own way. A full dozen of these women lounged in chairs or perched on benches, laughing and playing games with colored stones or quietly conversing with each other.
Several look up as you approach, and by the time you get to the edge of their tiled patio, all are studying you, demurely through lowered lashes or with brazen and appraising stares. One of them, a slim girl who appeared a native of the north coast, stood and sashayed forward to greet you. "Welcome, Lords," she purrs "See anything you like?"
Lyaro visibly stops himself from stepping up and talking to the lady, waiting for someone more representative of the group to do so.
"I'm afraid my tastes are rather specific, and we're on a mission. If we need to wait, we will have no need of assistance amusing ourselves." Lyall's lip twirls up slightly in a hint of a sneer.
At once, the women’s demeanor changed. Gone was the lolling cathouse frivolity, the careful air of sensuality. All around you, bared flesh tensed and leaned forward, subtly straining to catch your words. The lead woman smiled again, but this time it was harder, and with a touch of pity.
"Go home, priest," she says, not unkindly. "You’re a reasonably attractive man, but you have neither the funds nor the status to engage the lady’s interest, and she’s not one to suffer proselytizing. Put her from your mind, and you’ll be much happier. Better yet, allow one of us to aid you in forgetting."
"Good lord, the amount of enormously unhelpful people in this city is enough to understand why those of my profession so commonly chose to dash it all and launch a fireball."
"Come with me." the spokeswoman says, and leads the way across the porch and into the building itself.
Lady Jbade’s manor is different from Qali’s or the Anvanorys’ as night from day. Where the other two had been residences—albeit extraordinary ones, their daily routines fueled by entire villages of servants— this place looked like a combination theater and brothel. The grand entryway was hung thick with silks and tapestries, the walls beyond sporting murals and mosaics of tiny, coloured pieces of glass blown from desert sands. Several more women lounged on low couches or leaned over the upstairs balcony, seemingly with no other purpose than to be seen.
The spokeswoman led the way into the manor. Most of the chambers that extended off of the house’s hallways bore curtains of diaphanous cloth or beads that could be drawn across the opening. Some had been left open, and through these you see women dancing slowly and sensually for men with expensive clothes and wide grins. Some of these women wore elaborate costumes, others cascades of tiny bells that provided their own accompanying music. Still others wore nothing at all. And these were just the doors that were left open. Of the rooms they passed, twice that number had the curtains drawn, and from behind these came laughter, moans, and the occasional shriek.
You ascend up three flights of stairs finally reaching an antechamber at the topmost story. Before you is yet another of the cascading thread-curtains, but this one was embroidered with an ornate tessellation of flowers and dragons, shining with thread of gold. To either side stood two oiled and muscular men wearing loincloths and holding short halberds whose delicately curved blades looked sharp enough to shave with.
"Wait here." the woman says and goes into the room. She comes back out a moment later. "The lady will see you." she says.
You move forward and pass through the curtain and into a sultan’s harem. Though the rest of the building had been decorated with couches and wall hangings, this room was upholstered so heavily that there wasn't a hard angle to be seen. It was impossible to tell how high the ceiling extended, for twelve feet up, a web of hundreds of silk streamers strung between the walls created a layered canopy of soft colors, through which unseen lights cast a warm glow. Pillows and mats covered the floor shin-deep, crisscrossed by narrow paths of fabric stretched taut a few inches above the floor, pleasantly conforming to the foot that trod it. All of it—every pillow, hanging, and pathway—seemed specifically positioned to draw the eye toward the enormous canopied bed and its sole occupant. Lounging on the mattress like a cat, she wore a long gown of iridescent green which clung flatteringly to her slim waist and rounded hips, a long slit exposing a smooth expanse of leg all the way up to the outside of her thigh. Her arms were bare and bronze, and if you guessed you would have put her as roughly thirty years old if her face didn't display the delicate, porcelain features of the elf-blooded.
Slightly pointed ears poking through the sheer black waterfall of her hair confirmed the fact, as did slanted eyes with oversized emerald irises. At the moment, those eyes were ignoring your arrival, focused instead on something taking place around the corner in an alcove facing the bed. Her expression was one of polite boredom. As you draw closer you can see she is watching.
It is a woman, a beautiful fire-eater whose limbs were tattooed with flames, distinguished from the others not so much by her beauty as by the fact that she managed to light a torch through a small piercing where throat met collarbone.
"Good" Jbade called, her tone encouraging. "Excellent work, Carisse, your leg is still too low, and you’re not getting full extension. I trust I won’t have to tell you again."
The woman bows and walks out of the room. As she walks past you can see her tattoos cover almost her entire body with fire and dragons. They actually highlighted rather than concealed her nudity. She blushes a bit and tries to hide her nudity with her arms. She scurries past and out behind the curtain.
"Pay no attention to her" says Jbade. "Clarisse is new and has not yet adjusted completely to the transition from amateur performing on the streets to being a professional. Of course on the streets she was dressed. Performing nude was my idea, it lets her show of her wonderful tattoos so much better don't you think?" says the lady Jbade finally addressing you.
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"She has a fine form, and the artistry of the tattoos is beyond debate, but with all due respect, our purpose here is not to partake in your establishment's services," Devyhn replies.
"You are obviously a busy woman whose time is no doubt precious, so we will be happy to get to the heart of the matter. You were one of the losing bidders for this year's Sun Orchid Elixir; the Elixir won by the now deceased Faldus Anvanory. We are interested in what you know of the matter."
"Indeed, we're almost certain we know the faction behind it, but we simply have no leads as to their location. If we were to defeat them, then the Sun Orchid Elixir would be returned to go back to the auction once more."
"In which case, you'd be back in the running to win the auction, so it's to your advantage to aid us." Bleyz tries to come off as earnest rather than badgering
and somehow manages to do so.
"I knew Faldus well, and was greatly saddened to hear of his death, so close to the fulfilment of his goal. Yet I am afraid I cannot help you. I know nothing of who is behind this most vile attack."
"I do not believe we've been properly introduced" she says leaning forward to better study you and giving you a better view of her cleavage.
You notice that among the many pendants worn by the lady Jbade is a silver holy symbol of Calistria. Goddess of Lust and Revenge.
"I am Lady Leantina Issa Jbade and while it’s not uncommon for men to come looking for me, it is rare for Lhael to admit them without so much as asking their names. You must have made quite an impression. If you are investigating the death of Faldus then I supposes Khoyar sent you? I'm surprised Khoyar would sent messengers instead of coming himself."
"Then, perhaps you have leverage on one Qali? He knows, but will not tell us for fear of those responsible." Lyall disregards Jbade's, to Lyall, irrelevant question.
Especially considering he had already forgotten who Khoyar was.
Erik listens to Jbade and watches here carefully. For now he remains silent.
"We were not sent by master Khoyar, we are following up on leads that point to you as possibly being involved, I emphasize possibly. If you are not please give us any information you know about new powerful players locally."
"I did not kill Faldus Anvanory, nor did I in any way orchestrate his death. I lost the auction and that was no small setback, but it was not worth killing a man and jeopardizing everything I have built. Do I look like I have withered? In five years or fifty I will bid again. That difference is great to someone like Qali but not to me. You no doubt have a terrible impression of me from Faldu's slip of a daughter but I assure you we were not enemies. Far from it. We were...close.
"I think she feared I'd marry her father and take her place in the household, but of course there was never any danger of that. I do not intent to ever be married."
"As for helping you on your quest there is little I can do. You see my information network specialises in different areas than the ones you need. I get a lot of gossip and some juicy bits that can be used for blackmail in court but I do not have links to the criminal underworld. Convincing Qali of anything is very difficult and expensive and he is one of the few men who can resist my charms. I am not willing to spend the coin to purchase this information from Qali for you but you can always ask Faldus's daughter to make the purchase. I am sure she can afford after all with her father dead she controls his fortune now."
You think she is telling the truth about not being behind Faldus's death.
You also get the feeling she isn't saying everything and that she does have some links to the criminal underworld however.
"Who else has evaded your charms? Our quarry must surely be someone of means but most likely avoids too many close associations."
"Fine for Fladus I will give you some information for free. There is one man that you might want to look into. I only have a first name, Ogrim. A bald fat sweaty man covered in leeches. He has at the auction but did not make any bids. To be allowed in one must have been invited by the queen herself so his presence there did strike me as odd especially since I know nothing about him and he did not seem interested in acquiring the elixir. Of course I expect you to be discreet in your inquires and not to point the finger in my direction." she replies.
All done here?
OK sounds good having nothing more to say you leave the brothel and return to the carriage.
Whats your next move?
"We might find more leads by visiting the queen or else trying to find this 'Ogrim'."
"Naila do you know of this Ogrim fellow?"