We've a business proposal fer his majesty... not one to be bellowed over the room - this room in particular but just hearing us out more intimately? Its worth 100 gold... which we will double again if he says 'yes' to what we want and helps us with what we need.
We've a business proposal fer his majesty... not one to be bellowed over the room - this room in particular but just hearing us out more intimately? Its worth 100 gold... which we will double again if he says 'yes' to what we want and helps us with what we need.
Roj continues to detect evil, as nothing about this place makes him comfortable and the poisoned weapons and horrible knife-games make him think of sadism rather than order and discipline. He shifts restlessly in his armor, but makes no other moves.
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There are some magical auras around all of the newcomers, and devargo, and of course the dragon in the cage. They are all quite low level.
Roj continues to detect evil, as nothing about this place makes him comfortable and the poisoned weapons and horrible knife-games make him think of sadism rather than order and discipline. He shifts restlessly in his armor, but makes no other moves.
Devargo detects as evil. Some of the men in the room detect as evil.
They aren't being quiet at all. Devargo certainly isn't.
Devargo looks at you and grins. "You are quite amusing, barging in here without a by your leave and demanding information. It turns out I have lots of different types of information. Anything more specific?
"It would take a whole lot more than 100 gold pieces to obtain though. It's worth far more than that, I don't deal in petty disputes. While you re-think your bribe, how about a game of knivesies? One of your team against, lets say, him over there!"
At this, Devargo points at Erik.
"Uh, your, er, Regally Majestic Highness, I might volunteer for the game if my boss here agrees and most of all if it will elicit your good will toward us and our proposal."
Yer up then my sweet, says Borden gibbly while cupping her face intimately, hoping his liberties won't get him into trouble later, that is if'n none o' the others want up that is.
He turns to the 'King', And how about we's gamble on your time... say I triple my opening offer for some more private conversation against you granting us a private audience?
Simply information, well, a lot of it but as it may be considered sensitive. Still want me to blurt it out?
Is this guy for real? I can't believe his lack of subtly... then again he's wearing poison knives on his knuckles. Moron, Borden thinks.
"Kid, I need to win this, so be nice and I won't hurt you much, and we can split the money afterwards", Gwen whispers to her opponent.
Not even looking at the burgeoning fight he closes to the 'throne' but stays outside of punching distance. He speaks low voiced.
We're interested in 'working an angle' with the Chellish Ambassador, who we understand is a client here. The current chaos affords certain opportunities that we'd like to capitialise on. I'd like to buy all the information on the man and his 'habits' you have. We'd be willing to pay 300 gold coins for this.
Erik's eyes go wide as everybody turns to stare at him, and as the catcalls and yelling begins, he feels his stomach clench up and his throat close with panic. He's spent all evening avoiding attention, laying low, trying to eavesdrop and keep out of the spotlight, now suddenly every single sailor, thief, and cut throat is staring at him and grinning.
Shoved forward, Erik steps up to the table and examines Gwen. At least she doesn't seem as bloodthirsty as the others. Mind racing, he tries to determine what his best move is - should he try and win? Take the fall and get out easy? Would that ruin his chances at impressing Devargo?
He climbs up onto the table, and waits as his wrist is lashed to the woman's. She's clearly stronger, faster, and more hardy than he is. In a fair competition, he wouldn't stand a chance.
Nobody said this had to be fair, however. Reaching into his pouch, he pulls free a dab of butter, and smears it between his fingers. If he's going to be forced to make an impression, then he might as well make a good one.
"Sorry," he says to Gwen, sincerely apologetic. "I don't intend to get hurt at all."
As the crowd counts down from ten, and everybody throws their money on the table, Erik begins to mutter and make the right gestures with his free hand, smearing the butter between his fingers even further. Just before they reach "One!" he casts his spell.
Grease. Gwen's half of the table is coated with a treacherous, viscous substance.
Gwen seems to barely notice the thick layer of slippery grease conjured by the slimy lad. She retaliates by tripping him
and once he's down she gracefully steps on the clean side of the table.
Erik's heart sinks as Gwen adroitly steps out of the grease as if she were striding on dry stone. With his one ploy failed, he sees her leg coming in for a sweep, and in that second where perhaps he could shove her back or otherwise persist in fighting, he leans forward instead, and whispers, "Can't blame me for trying!"
Then he lets her take his leg right out from under him. Not that he had much choice. He lets out a pained yell of surprise, collapses dramatically onto the table, and with a little effort bounces and rolls right off the edge and onto the floor.
"Hmmm... did he fall on purpose? I'm not sure... Oh well"
Gwen steps down from the table and gets to Borden's side again. She winks at him as she approaches.
Erik takes the opportunity while everybody is looking at Gwen to roll under the table and out of sight. There he winces as he rubs his elbow and the crown of his head where it cracked against the floor.
Damn it. He dismisses the grease. Should he slink out of here and run before he got into any more trouble? Or should he persist, and try to find a way to double down and grab this elusive opportunity he's been reaching for?
Rolling onto his stomach, he watches the group of strangers as they address Devargo.
It's a night for rash decisions, apparently. Erik licks his lower lip, hunkers down in the shadows beneath the table, and casts Charm Person on Devargo, muttering and gesturing quietly as he releases the spell.
Erik scrambles out from under the table, cursing the wine stain that has smeared the front of his tunic almost black, and steps up to join the group. Everything is in flux - nothing is certain. What are these people trying to achieve? Erik doesn't know. Are they trustworthy? He's not sure. Would they welcome his help? No idea.
But he's lived on the streets his whole life, and he recognizes an opportunity when he sees it.
"Your highness," he says, voice sounding strained due to nerves. "It's been a right pleasure to be on the Eel tonight, and to, erm, witness your power and authority."
He almost winces at that initial delivery, but plows on. "I was just thinking that as a king, it'd be very inspiring to the rest of us - your subjects, as it were - for you to show some royal largess, the kind of generosity that only real kings can afford to extend, and help these folks with what they're asking for without asking for too much in return."
Erik's smile is half panicked, half grin. He stares at Devargo, and silently prays, Please don't kill me, please don't kill me!
"I don't like this, Gwen. I feel like we're being taken, somehow." Roj turns his attention to the boy who'd been 'playing' with Gwen, eventually determining that he is, in fact, not evil. He next turns his attention to the tiny dragon. Looking at the dragon, he tries to notice any signs of abuse or torment. Surely even this foul man wouldn't torture a trapped creature...
"What have you been doing to this creature, your 'highness'? It should not be in this cramped cage, it should be roosting with its kin around the city. I insist you free it."
Gwen hasn't got the slightest idea what this odd chap is up to. He seems to be trying to help them, but why?
Perhaps he's afraid I will take revenge on him for his trick at knivesies.
To Roj, in a whisper: "Hold on a little longer, Rojerick, let's give Borden some more time to work his magic"
To Borden, still whispering:
"Perhaps another rise of our offer could win him over?"
Very well then yer majesty, rumour said yer were a canny man... 600 gold but yer chewing our profit margin.
Nice of the little bloke to help out... wonder why?
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Devargo smiles widely. "Ahh, now we are talking. I think I have just the thing. Take your ease here for just a moment or two. Have that cash ready when I get back."
With that he stands and moves out of a door against the hull to one side. You can easily see a set of stairs leading down, but that's about it.
A few minutes later he returns. "You have money? I have these. I found them in the ambassador's private things. He buying them back, one at a time. Doesn't seem to like the experience! They will be useful to your master I think." He smiles, and holds up two envelopes.
Roj clunks his way forward across the floor and takes the letters, nodding slightly at Devargo. He walks over to the table and attempts to grab Erik by the back of his shirt.
"You're coming with us, boy. Gwen and Borden are going to have words with you once we're off these ships." Turning to the Spider King, he looks pointedly at the dragon in the cage. "What's that dragon worth to you? My daughter would no doubt love to have it as a pet."
Erik does his level best not to gasp when Rojerick grabs a fistful of his shirt, holding him so tight that the seams almost tear. He gazes up into the man's pale green eyes, and the best he can manage is a slight nod of agreement.
Once the shock of being grabbed passes, he feels a flicker of excitement. Yes! The night isn't over yet. This group's just thrown 600 gold down for a chance at the Chelaxian ambassador. Whomever they are, they've got big plans, and that's just where I want to be.
Once they're out, Gwen addresses the young scoundrel rather friendly:
"Well kiddo, I suppose you want something with us given your behaviour in there, but this is not the safest place to talk. I say we take him to our place and have a nice chat with him, what do you say guys?"
It's rather hard to look suave and sophisticated when your shirt is wrapped around another man's fist. Still, Erik does his level best to keep his chin raised and not look too nervous as he's marched down the ship's gangplank to the dock, and there addressed by the group.
"I - yes." He pauses to swallow and steady his voice. "I'd like a chance to talk in private. I - well - I think we might both stand to gain quite a lot from such a conversation."
Erik mentally reviews the spells that yet burn and arc in his mind, aching for their command words to release them. If worst came to worst, he could perhaps use a combination of Color Spray and Ghost Sound to elude them long enough to change his appearance...
"The ghost's house, then? I guess if you want to bring him in, Gwen, I could let him go. I cannot say I trust him, finding him in that rats' nest, but the Goddess would want me to give him a chance, so he'll have one."
Roj lets go of the shirt.
"Boy, from what I saw in there, you got lucky I dragged you out. Devargo won't be happy when your spell wears off, and he'd likely come after you. Speaking of the 'Spider King', I'd like to pay him another visit before too long. He reeked of evil, and the Dawnflower would prefer he begin his redemption sooner rather than later."
"Well Roj, for what it's worth I didn't like the man either. Perhaps we'll find something along the way that will convince Kro... ahem, *you know who* that it's time to deal with him more decisively.
But yes, let's bring this resourceful lad to the ghost's house and we'll see where we all stand."
"Lucky?" Erik tries to muster some outrage, but then he decides not to push it and grins. "I guess you're right. Though you'd be surprised. Most folks don't know they've been hit with a charm spell unless you have them act real funny. And with Devargo? That'd have involved him being nice to somebody."
Erik pauses and frowns. "Which... I guess he was, back there. Though for 600 gold, even the Spider King can be nice."
He glances from Rojerick to Borden to Gwen, and then tugs at the hem of his shirt, pulling it down, and arranges his leather satchel. "My name's Erik Copper. I'll probably get a fancy title someday soon, like 'The Mysterioso' or the like, but, well, I ain't had time to think of a good one."
He hesitates and then has the good graces to blush. "And, erm, Gwen? My apologies for casting that Grease spell too quick. I was nervous, and got my timing wrong." He gives her a roguish grin. "Also, I didn't know you weren't about to stab me in the gut. So."
Erik looks generally amenable to heading toward this ghost house, wherever it may be. He's pretty certain there won't be any ghosts there. Almost completely certain.
Gwen is in a good mood since things went well at Eel's End, so she quickly turns into chatty mode: "Yes, well, don't mention it, Erik. I had a hunch that you rolled off the table on purpose anyway, which reminds me, I still owe you half of the money! we'll settle the matter when we get to our place, if that's alright with you. The Mysterioso, huh, what's up with that?"
Erik is it? You lookin' fer a crew? That was a 'slick' move you pulled back there, he pauses for his pun to sink in and then moves on.
Seriously though, you have a knack fer magic an we can use such - give it some thought.
He turns back to the group.
So when do we report in? After a meet and greet with Erik here? Our profit margin was less than what I preferred but hey we didn't have to bleed fer it