Braddon and Phillip pass each other like two ships in the night, and the halflings step onto the flatboat, perching on the edge near the railing. The last on, they are likewise the last off on the opposite shore, waiting for the ferry to clear before stepping up onto the dock.
The lights of Free-Coin twinkle in front of them as they disembark. It is already well dark, and the streets and restaurants are full. It takes a stack of silver for Phil to ensure a table on the cobblestones at the Lone Hippocampus.
----------------------
In the meantime, Braddon makes his way down the alleyway to the back door of the Gold Goblin. Letting himself in, he finds the kitchen warm and redolent with the aroma of meat and gravy. Undoubtedly, the staff is gathered upstairs for dinner. Counting back, the half-elf tallies up the number of meals he has had thus far today. On the other hand, the stairs to the basement remind him of the reason for his return and the prisoner exchange that is scheduled for this evening. On the third hand, if he had it, there's the matter of Samaritha and the news he's not supposed to know about....
Kneeling beside the seated Samaritha, Gristav guessed, experimentally empathetically, "Sam. You were close? He was the one who understood you? But... weren't you, about to go..?"
"Only up to Windward!" she protests. "I'd still be in Riddleport. But he told me he didn't intend to stay. When the cards told him it was time to move on, he'd go back to the road. He didn't want to ... mislead me. But I didn't think it would be so soon."
Kneeling beside the seated Samaritha, Gristav guessed, experimentally empathetically, "Sam. You were close? He was the one who understood you? But... weren't you, about to go..?""Only up to Windward!" she protests. "I'd still be in Riddleport. But he told me he didn't intend to stay. When the cards told him it was time to move on, he'd go back to the road. He didn't want to ... mislead me. But I didn't think it would be so soon."
"If he's still on Saul's business, surely you'll see him again? Regularly? Irregularly, but often? I lost the note with Tendal, but what did it say? What could it say, left in his room, and not yours? Haphazard. Even a second, sealed note, could have been, more discretely done."
"Whatever it said, or the other... If as I surmise you weep for the instant of pain of a suspected loss, perhaps you should reason: the loss has not occurred yet. Do we weep for Winter's cold, in Autumn? Or do we hold faith and hope for Spring?" Duty done, Gristav felt, and, failing to form a phonetic fabric, half-rose to whisper more closely to Samaritha, "I envy him."
Rising completely now, Gristav made for the door, slowed by Samaritha, as the anchor of his attention, even as he elaborated, "And having said that, I think I'll open the door..."
While the smell of food doesn't have the draw for Braddon that it usually would, the promise of people does. Braddon makes his way upstairs keeping an eye out for Malkith and Daynadrian with whom he captured the scribe, or Gristav and Snake with whom he addressed the General.
When he arrives at the table, it is Saul he addresses though.
"Uh hi. Has the prisoner been taken away yet? Did Gristav tell you? Or Snake? Or anyone?"
Braddon glares around the table. "We're handing the scribe over to the General. Uh, now. Ish."
Braddon finds only Saul, Bojasc, and Snake at the rather bereft table. Saul quirks an inquisitive eyebrow at Snake. "First I've heard of it. What's the plan to get him out without attracting unwanted attention? Darkness is one thing, but I can't imagine the man will toddle off to Shoreleave quietly. They say there's no such thing as bad publicity, but I wouldn't care to test the adage with rumors the Gold Goblin keeps a secret dungeon."
Gristav opens the door to reveal Tendal, waiting with a scowl. "Really," he says as he strolls back into the room, "Miss Beldusc is a grown woman and ought to be treated as one, not as a spoiled child who needs constant care and comfort." He offers the paper back to Samaritha, who nods it toward Gristav.
The letter reads:
Herr Vankaskerkin, Herr Felden:
Some information has been revealed to me regarding Scarlet Lil. At the moment, wisdom dictates that I look into the matter alone: A single traveler asking questions will attract less attention than your whole staff. It seems likely that I will have to leave Riddleport, at least for some time. If I do not return, I will endeavor at least to send word whether my investigations bear fruit.
Your servant,
Malkith Deraythen
Thusly ensconced, Phillip endeavors to ensure that while Ethel is gifted the best view... he retains eyes upon the street without needing to crane his neck. When server comes he seeks a glass of port for himself, asks if Ethel wishes for apple wine and finally settles upon the salmon in lemon butter for sustenance.
Idle banter flows and ebbs, before Phil catches Ethel's hand and seeks eye contact to impart a truth "For the record... before we step within the House... my intent tonight is for pleasure. My eyes may rove, and we will take the tour... but I will not be seeking any other angles." holding a few moments to make sure that the words are heard and believed.
Gristav opens the door to reveal Tendal, waiting with a scowl. "Really," he says as he strolls back into the room, "Miss Beldusc is a grown woman and ought to be treated as one, not as a spoiled child who needs constant care and comfort." He offers the paper back to Samaritha, who nods it toward Gristav.
Reading the letter, Gristav argued automatically, as though one, the other, or both were old habit with him, "I saw a wound, and did not know depth or poison. I did not know. You did not care, until the door closed. I'm sure you make a very good factor, but don't try to tell me, how to be a friend."
Apparently finishing the parchment in that instant, Gristav turned it to face Samaritha. "He has sight we lack", he comforted, speaking of Malkith, "We have to respect that, and his choice. He's wiser than I, but that's no great praise.", the half-elf hinted at humor, hoping it helped. "You'd know better than I, do you trust his judgement?" She would answer positively, or neutrally, and Gristav felt faint guilt at using Mother's methods.
"Then hope for Spring."
"I think it's time that the persons to whom this note is actually addressed saw it, hm?" Tendal confiscates the parchment. "You were saying there's dinner upstairs?" With a sweeping gesture that invites them to accompany him, he heads for the staircase to Saul's office.
"We'll be along. There's stew for ten, and time for another conversation. Or two.", Gristav says, looking away from Samaritha only an instant, and that only to look back at her, punctuating, "I said, I had a confession to make. But if you need to catch up on your reading?"
"For the record... before we step within the House... my intent tonight is for pleasure. My eyes may rove, and we will take the tour... but I will not be seeking any other angles."
Ethel smiles back. "I'm getting a little nervous," she confesses. "Do you think it can really be that much fancier than the Dragon's Hoard? I feel like everyone will know by looking at me that I'm just a shop girl from the sticks who has no business being there." She lowers her voice to a more conspiratorial tone. "I don't even know who Nabin is. Do you?"
Giving Ethel a reassuring pat upon the hand "No more different than we are in normal clothes against what we wear tonight I would expect. Less people, more fanciful cloth drapery... but the same beating heart I would expect. You will be fine." before chuckling at her question and returning the conspiratorial tone "Not the slightest clue..." and winking.
"First I've heard of it. What's the plan to get him out without attracting unwanted attention? Darkness is one thing, but I can't imagine the man will toddle off to Shoreleave quietly. They say there's no such thing as bad publicity, but I wouldn't care to test the adage with rumors the Gold Goblin keeps a secret dungeon."
Braddon shrugs.
"We knock him out, toss him in a sack, put it on a cart and take him to the docks."Braddon nods towards Snake.
"He and Gristav were there with the General. I'll take them along."
Braddon turns to Snake.
"Where is our mayhem maker of madness and murder?"
As Snake takes in another spoonful of stew, he turns his attention to Braddon. Staring at him with his typical stoic expression for what seems like an eternity, he finally responds with, "Who?"
"We'll be along. There's stew for ten, and time for another conversation. Or two.", Gristav says, looking away from Samaritha only an instant, and that only to look back at her, punctuating, "I said, I had a confession to make. But if you need to catch up on your reading?"
"Actually," Samaritha gets to her feet to follow Tendal, "I could do with dinner. I've barely had a quick bite since breakfast. And it is my last night here." She waits a moment to see if Gristav will follow.
"What's that?" Tendal queries her. "Are you leaving us as well?"
Despite her recent mood swing, she draws herself up with pride. "I've been accepted for an apprenticeship at the Cypherlodge," she informs him, "starting immediately. The Cyphermages are doing research on the shadow in the sky out over the harbor and got approval to bring in some new apprentices to do the grunt work. That's me. I'll be moving myself up there in the morning."
"Well, I suppose congratulations are in order. Well done, Miss Beldusc. I trust you've informed Mr. Vankaskerkin?"
"Not yet," she replies, looking a little nervous. "I only just arrived from Windward District. I do hope he won't think me ungrateful. He was tremendously kind to put me on staff, knowing I was hoping for a position elsewhere."
Giving Ethel a reassuring pat upon the hand "No more different than we are in normal clothes against what we wear tonight I would expect. Less people, more fanciful cloth drapery... but the same beating heart I would expect. You will be fine." before chuckling at her question and returning the conspiratorial tone "Not the slightest clue..." and winking.
She laughs. "Well, as long as we don't have to pick him out of a crowd to be allowed into the place...." She takes another sip of her wine and glances out onto the street at the pedestrians passing through the pools of light illuminated on the cobblestones by the street lamps. "Phil, now that I won't be going back to Betta's ... have you any ideas what I'll be doing with my days?"
"We'll be along. There's stew for ten, and time for another conversation. Or two.", Gristav says, looking away from Samaritha only an instant, and that only to look back at her, punctuating, "I said, I had a confession to make. But if you need to catch up on your reading?""Actually," Samaritha gets to her feet to follow Tendal, "I could do with dinner. I've barely had a quick bite since breakfast. And it is my last night here." She waits a moment to see if Gristav will follow.
"Perhaps, I'll get away with it.", Gristav grins like a goblin. "If I can't confess..." He gestures her to exit first, taking a moment to take charge of any room key or other loose lose-able.
-----
"Well, I suppose congratulations are in order. Well done, Miss Beldusc. I trust you've informed Mr. Vankaskerkin?"
Were you ASLEEP?! She came to tell her friend, first..., Gristav wrinkles his brow toward Tendal, but does not speak, not over Samaritha's reply.
"Not yet," she replies, looking a little nervous. "I only just arrived from Windward District. I do hope he won't think me ungrateful. He was tremendously kind to put me on staff, knowing I was hoping for a position elsewhere."
"I expect the only true problem, and of course, we're all celebrating, is the absence on Moonday. There are, other pretty faces, to be found, but none, like yours."
Gristav looks about for Hero.
As he moves further up the hall, Gristav continues the duty of calling the residents to dinner, knocking on each door, to be sure.
"Who?"
Saul grins. "Believe he means Larur's friend, the bearded half-elf." He turns his attention back to Braddon. "I've not seen him yet this evening, but Master Taphodarian here tells me he's responsible for our bountiful feast so he ought to be in the building somewhere." Saul nods at Piccolo .
The gnome affirms Saul's statement. "I believe he went to speak with Mr. Felden."
"Oh. No idea," he simply responds as he returns his attention back to eating his stew.
Braddon nods.
"Yup. Gristav. Just something Phillip mentioned when we were fighting for our lives against those evil cultists this morning."
Braddon nods at Snake while addressing Saul.
"Snake was great. I got separated from him and Gristav during the battle and by the time I found my way back they'd taken out most of the thugs. Mister Snake is a man of many talents," Braddon says as he rubs at his vanished wound.
"That's why Id like him to help me deliver the... prisoner."
Braddon turns back to Snake.
"Let's go. We'll grab Gristav on the way."
"On the way where?" Tendal asks, walking into the dining room. He has a folded parchment in his hand and is closely followed by Samaritha.
Gristav takes the room key, lying on the bed where the note was presumably laid, and exits the now-unoccupied room, closing but not locking the door behind him. Distracted by Samaritha's news, he neglected to keep his firefly dancing, and the bored kitten has wandered off somewhere. Keeping an eye out for the wandering Hero, he moves on toward the last two doors. Having seen Phillip depart with his companion, he doesn't expect to find anyone there, but Thuvalia stalked back toward her room earlier; she may well still be within. He knocks gently, and a moment later, she opens the door.
"Oh," she says, looking disappointed. "You again. Have you been pacing the corridor all this time?"
"Oh," she says, looking disappointed. "You again. Have you been pacing the corridor all this time?"
"Well, all some time, but this time? It's unclear what this time is, unless you mean, 'now'. I'm not pacing, now.", Gristav said, standing, smiling. "Dinner's upstairs. Malkith's gone, Sam's leaving, the kitten is at liberty, somewhere in the house..." He gestured, wand-like, with his staff toward the established absence of Malkith, the fading presence of Samaritha, and the suspected, supposed, stomping-grounds of the hirsute, hidden little hunter.
Into which he walked, watchful and wary. "Don't worry, I'll go first!"
Braddon nods.
"Yup. Gristav. Just something Phillip mentioned when we were fighting for our lives against those evil cultists this morning."
Braddon nods at Snake while addressing Saul.
"Snake was great. I got separated from him and Gristav during the battle and by the time I found my way back they'd taken out most of the thugs. Mister Snake is a man of many talents," Braddon says as he rubs at his vanished wound.
"That's why Id like him to help me deliver the... prisoner."
Braddon turns back to Snake.
"Let's go. We'll grab Gristav on the way."
Snake finishes up and places the spoon within the bowl before turning to Braddon, looking at him with curiosity. "Why do you need me?" he asks candidly. "Isn't this yours and the ramblin' man's idea? I don't even recall this conversation ever taking place between us and the general. 'Course, I probably wasn't listening; especially if it was Gristav talking," he says without a hint of a smile.
"It's in our best interests, first, to get out of the prison business," Saul answers for Braddon, "and, second, to convince the Gendarmes that we're good citizens. Can't get the fellow out of here fast enough to suit me. Go along with them, just in case there's trouble; Desna willing, there won't be, and it will just be a quick stroll down to the docks and back," Saul instructs Snake. "Oh, Tendal," he greets the mage cheerfully. "Just being cheered by the prospect of losing a tenant: the scribe in the basement suite."
"Hm, it's quite a day for losing tenants," Tendal responds cryptically, handing the parchment he holds to Saul as he moves past him to take a seat and dish him up a bowl of stew.
"It appears perhaps the count is four.", Gristav says, entering, somehow ahead of the unusually-deferential Thuvalia. Taking a bowl, he passes it to her, and steps aside from the crock. "A relative exodus. I'm not certain where the kitten is. I'd cautioned him against the basements, but I don't think he was listening." Filling a bowl, and taking a spoon, Gristav exits.
Snake shrugs, rising from his chair and pushing it in. Looking to Braddon, "Ready when you are, bub."
In the basement, Gristav stops any followers, and says, "I'm going to be talking. Neither of you will want to be there for that, so... go fetch a bag, rope, cloth... I don't know, put your imaginations together."
Continuing into the darkness, Gristav shades the bowl lighter, and smooths the curve of the dining-room spoon.
Finding Weatherby, Gristav puts the bowl just under arm's length from the cage in which Weatherby is being kept, and then steps well out of range of the staff's possible punishing arc. "In case you might imagine it a trick, to break your arm, or similar", he says levelly. "Or if you think it poisoned, or drugged, I'll take it up, and eat of it until you think the rest safe."
"I don't intend ill will. Yet I can't do much, to work weal. And I confess to some confusion, where exactly that may be, which side of this, history, or the angels, are on. But this, is true: You are about to leave here, and you can do it fed, or famished. And if fed, water will follow. Because it's important to have choices."
"Phil, now that I won't be going back to Betta's ... have you any ideas what I'll be doing with my days?"
Ethel's question gives Phillip a moments pause before he lets the facetious air that oft clouds his countenance slip and responds with a serious question "The Wasp adores free choice and personal freedom... I would not be a party to choosing for you milady. Listen to your heart, head or any other part that holds sway... as long as it is your will... then I will be proud of you."
Braddon's eye's follow Samaritha as she enters the room.
Braddon nods to Snake as Saul speaks. "It won't take long."
However, the rush Braddon was in seems to vanish as Snake rises.
"Who's lost?" he asks Tendal with a worried voice. He glances around at the empty seats as if looking for someone, but his gaze quickly rests again on Samaritha.
"Are you okay? I heard... nothing."
"It appears perhaps the count is four.", Gristav says, entering, somehow ahead of the unusually-deferential Thuvalia.
"Four?" Tendal asks, swiveling around in his chair to question Gristav. "My count was three."
"Who's lost?" he asks Tendal with a worried voice.
Thuvalia enters the room behind Gristav and takes a seat. "Daynadrian is missing," she announces, filling a bowl. "The elf," she explains, in case they had forgotten.
He glances around at the empty seats as if looking for someone, but his gaze quickly rests again on Samaritha.
"Are you okay? I heard... nothing."
Her eyes and nose are a little red, as if she may have been crying, but she quickly smiles. "I'm fine. I'm actually ... better than fine. I," she glances nervously at Saul at the head of the table, "I've been accepted as an apprentice at the Cypherlodge. I'm ... one of the three ... or four? ... who are leaving," she trails off apologetically, much of the pleasure of making the announcement quelled by the awkwardness of this being the first her employer is hearing of it.
"Daynadrian is missing," she announces, filling a bowl. "The elf," she explains, in case they had forgotten.
"Missing?" Tendal snorts. "Last I heard he was doing 'research' at the brothel. 'Absent without leave' is more like it."
Snake raises an eyebrow at the well dressed man's words. "Research at a brothel, huh? Yeah, okay. Obviously he wasn't hired for his fine skills at deceit," he says with obvious sarcasm.
"The Wasp adores free choice and personal freedom... I would not be a party to choosing for you milady. Listen to your heart, head or any other part that holds sway... as long as it is your will... then I will be proud of you."
Ethel nods ruminatively. "I'd like to do something to help your work. After all, if I was going to do something respectable, I might as well have stayed with Betta. But I don't think I'm ready to go into Rotgut and...." She flutters her fingers, not wanting to be too explicit about Phil's morning activities, lest someone overhear.
Languidly stretching as he regards passers by Phillip answers "Just as a Varisi scarf has many colours, there are many ways that you could ingratiate yourself in our work. But the first might be the most and least important of all - on Sunday the Goblin will hold a Varisian Caravan night. Be there beside me with ears open to listen, eyes to watch and voice to entertain... and from there we will see what opens to us."
"Dayn!?"
For what may be the first time, Thuvalia has Braddon's attention.
"He went where? Research?"
Braddon turns on Tendal and Snake.
"How do you know Shorafa hasn't captured him in revenge? She said he was trying to poach her street kids. He helped me get the letter that pinned Lil. And the scribe. He's done heaps for this place. We have to find him. Who else is missing?"
He looks to Samaritha, screws his face up, nods and looks back to the others somewhat frantic.
"He was at breakfast this morning," Tendal says dismissively, "and it's only just now dinnertime. He's not a child with a curfew. If he hasn't turned up by morning, there'll be time to start to worry."
"Malkith was here at breakfast, too," Samaritha murmurs.
"And if he hadn't left a note," Tendal reasons, "I'd assume he was an adult going about his own business before I'd jump to the conclusion he was in danger and in need of rescue. I mean, I haven't seen that halfling fellow since breakfast: Why aren't we all concerned about him?"