"I knew you'd take care of her. And me. And Sam. She said she's a cypher mage now. You're not gonna bar her from here are you?"
Arnando looks intensely uncomfortable. "Nothing against Samaritha," he mumbles. "It's Tammerhawk. Can't go making exceptions."
Eulalie swings past with a tray of empty tankards. "Arnando has a business to run, and he's free to ban who he likes to keep the peace," she reminds Braddon. "On the other hand, he can't tell me I can't invite a friend to drop by my home to visit. You tell her to go to the back door, and she's welcome to a spot of tea and good conversation anytime. Especially if she'll help me wash dishes." She swats Arnando's legs with a dishcloth as she continues into the kitchen.
With a slight smirk forming and the dangerous flicker coming back unto his eyes Phillip gives a slight shrug to accede "Who am I to stand between..." turning back to Vern "Two shots, straight up, no ice..." before leaning forward "and something elvish and sparkling put on ice." with a brief wink and nod to Vern.
Vern gives Phillip a nod and reaches below the bar for a square bottle and a pair of tumblers into which he dispenses a few fingers of the reddish-amber liquid. He gives Ethel an amused wink before turning away to tend to the second half of Phil's instructions.
Gristav's warning comes too late, as the new arrival breaks Samaritha's concentration. Her face flushes as red as her hair. "I... I don't know," she stammers, shaking her head.
Saul strides into the room, trusting that those already in it will move aside or press against the wall to make room for him, while Bojasc hovers in the doorway, his bulk both preventing the door from closing again and making a fair replacement for the slab of wood. He openly stares at the elf-child sitting on the bed, chuckling nervously under his breath as he runs the fingers of his good hand around the stump of his other wrist. "Suppose I could have had it worse, eh?" he asks no one in particular.
"It's all right," Daynadrian puts in hurriedly. "Snake was able to identify the spell, and he thinks he may know how to put it right."
"I hadn't heard him say that. He spoke of hiring its removal. And yes, Mister Vankaskerin, there's always something worse. This is a curse, and ought to resolve itself, when its conditions are met. Or, that's my understanding. I thought, I'd go do some research." Gristav, standing behind Saul and before the hulking Bojasc, meets briefly the eyes of all the others in the room.
"On the other hand, he can't tell me I can't invite a friend to drop by my home to visit. You tell her to go to the back door, and she's welcome to a spot of tea and good conversation anytime. Especially if she'll help me wash dishes."
Braddon smiles. "I'll let her know... when I see her next."
He frowns briefly but the grin returns as he turns back to Lexy.
"So what do you spend all your hard earned cash on? What shall we spend all my hard earned cash on, hmm?" he teases.
"I still don't know this territory very well, so you'll have to guide me," Braddon suggests as he slides a hand over Lexy's hip.
"So what do you spend all your hard earned cash on?"
"Rent. Food. Clothes. Lots of clothes," she giggles. Despite Arnando's ablutions, the alcohol has clearly gone to her head a little.
"I still don't know this territory very well, so you'll have to guide me," Braddon suggests as he slides a hand over Lexy's hip.
"Oh, I think you know your way around that.... Oh. You mean Riddleport, right? I haven't been to Free-Coin very often, but I know there are three casinos. One is kind of old and out of fashion, and one's really exclusive. It's hard to get in if you're not somebody, you know? The other one's the Dragon's Hoard where Liry Parmenter sets up her Ghoulette wheel. You remember her from Sunday night, right?"
Picking up the shot glass, Phillip swirls the whisky and takes a deep smell. Girding his gut, he then raises it slightly to Ethel... and downs it in a single swallow...
Fort Save:
...the liquid burning a path of fire down his throat and threatening to make him cough due to the sensory assault. However he musters his strength and gives a simple "Ahh" of appreciation before placing his glass back upon the counter and tilting head as he regards Ethel.
"Oh, I think you know your way around that.... Oh. You mean Riddleport, right?"
"I could have meant Riddleport." Braddon holds his hands up in mock innocence that does nothing to hide his grin.
"Very well. I remember Liry. Do you wanna hit the Dragon's Hoard? See how much trouble we can get into there? Who owns it? Are we likely to get ganked? Let me know when you're ready to leave."Braddon downs another drink.
"Oh, no, it's all very safe," she assures him. "Everything in Free-Coin is owned by the Overlord, and it's crawling with Gendarmes. Probably more so since 'the incident,'" she lowers her voice to a conspiratorial whisper as she refers to Falk Zincher's death. She finishes her last drink and sets the glass back on the bar with an air of finality. "I'm ready. Let's go."
Ethel sets down her sweet and colorful rum-laced concoction to eye the whiskey a little trepidaciously, but she can't back down from Phil's challenge. She lifts the glass to her lips, vacillates between trying to down it in a single gulp like he did or taking a more conservative sip, gets a whiff of the potent aroma as she's hesitating, and chokes on the amber liquid as it trickles over her lips, coughing and sputtering, her eyes wide with shock.
"This is a curse, and ought to resolve itself, when its conditions are met. Or, that's my understanding. I thought, I'd go do some research." Gristav, standing behind Saul and before the hulking Bojasc, meets briefly the eyes of all the others in the room.
Saul harrumphs noncommittally. "I trust this little escapade will reinforce to everyone not to go crossing Shorafa Pamodae? We mind our business and let her mind hers, and let never the twain meet. Probably best you stay out of sight until this gets taken care of," he advises Daynadrian. "Can't have a minor traipsing about a casino during operating hours, and if you're spotted by a press gang, you'll find yourself a cabin boy out of sight of land before you know what's hit you."
Attempting to restrain, but unable to stop a small chuckle Phillip turns it into a coughing fit of his own to cover Ethel's loss of composure. With eyes still sparkling and the burning lozenge of whisky working it's way from stomach to bloodstream Phil smirks and asks "Another shot?" fully expecting to be subject to some battery.
"I'm ready. Let's go."
Braddon offers his arm to Lexy and allows her to lead him on to their destination.
"Crawling with Gendarmes, hey. Great. I'll make sure they're nice to us."
Phil smirks and asks "Another shot?"
Ethel glowers at him through watering eyes and pushes her glass, still mostly full, over to him. When she can speak again, she chokes out, "Have mine," glaring a challenge.
"Well, if that's all...," Saul looks around the room expectantly, "I'll head back upstairs. And you, young man," he levels an admonitory finger at Daynadrian, "it's past your bedtime." Bojasc guffaws at his employer's joke, and Daynadrian scowls. "Let me know if there's anything you need." He heads back out the door.
...find yourself a cabin boy out of sight of land before you know what's hit you."[/b]
"Mr. Vankaskerkin, were you the parent of such a lad, what would you have to say to man who, say, promised coins to your son, if he'd keep watch, say, on... Zincher's men?", Gris asks of Saul, with his eyes on Dayn.
---
"Well, if that's all...," Saul looks around the room expectantly, "I'll head back upstairs. And you, young man," he levels an admonitory finger at Daynadrian, "it's past your bedtime." Bojasc guffaws at his employer's joke, and Daynadrian scowls. "Let me know if there's anything you need." He heads back out the door.
"You'll be able to get a key from Larur.", Gristav says to Dayn. "Leave my key with him. Perhaps send Snake, so you're not in the hall overmuch? And perhaps hurry, even she can't stay at table all night. Or remain in my room; she disdains me. Samaritha?", he pauses, to gain her gaze, "The last pages of my magister: two more spells, if my poor measure still interests, with such grandeur before you. I'm going, as I said, to do some research."
Waiting only a beat for any response, Gristav leaves the Goblin.
"Mr. Vankaskerkin, were you the parent of such a lad, what would you have to say to man who, say, promised coins to your son, if he'd keep watch, say, on... Zincher's men?"
"You're asking the wrong man, lad," Saul grins. "My boys grew up tagging after Cleg and getting up to gods know what in the back alleys of Riddleport. Figured if they were going into the family business, they'd need to get used to thinking on their feet, fighting back when prudent and making themselves scarce when not. Of course, in those days, I was a man not to be crossed in my own rights, which gave them a bit of protection."
Braddon finds himself retracing once again what has become a very familiar length of road along the west bank of the Velashu between the Publican House and Free-Coin District. The alcohol has loosened Lexy's tongue, and she chatters on happily as they walk, free of the worries of what might be watching them from the dark alleys that affected her on the way to the tavern.
"Everyone there was so awfully nice, and if just half of them that said they'd ask for me at the House actually do, it ought to be really good for my business. Of course, Anya's the one who's trying to impress Shorafa. If we moved into the House itself, it would save us rent, but really I kind of like having a life outside of work which you just can't when you live there, can you? But if Anya gets promoted to having her own room in the House, I'd have to get a new roommate because I couldn't afford the flat on my own. I don't know if I could live with one of the other girls; they tend to be kind of catty and competitive, you know. Anya's that way about the other girls, but she's all right with me because we've been friends since we were kids. Even then, she's kind of jealous about the hair thing. Why do men think red hair is so much sexier than brunette? It doesn't work that way with men: I mean, no one thinks one man is more attractive than another because he's a redhead." She looks at Braddon as if she expects a response.
"Mr. Vankaskerkin, were you the parent of such a lad, what would you have to say to man who, say, promised coins to your son, if he'd keep watch, say, on... Zincher's men?""You're asking the wrong man, lad," Saul grins. "My boys grew up tagging after Cleg and getting up to gods know what in the back alleys of Riddleport. Figured if they were going into the family business, they'd need to get used to thinking on their feet, fighting back when prudent and making themselves scarce when not. Of course, in those days, I was a man not to be crossed in my own rights, which gave them a bit of protection."
"I can see that. So what if, in that day, some fellow had tried to similarly contract one of your sons, to serve as eyes on the street?"
"I'd hope they turn a tidy profit and then compound it by selling the information that they're being watched and by who back to the men they're watching," he answers immediately. "And then maybe sell the same information a third time by offering it to me. But again, you're asking the wrong man. How I'd feel about is beside the point; Shorafa obviously feels differently. You're trying to draw a general moral where there isn't one, just personal preference. What's important is to find out how the person you're dealing with sees things and giving them what they want ... or selling it to them, if you're in a position to do that. But with Shorafa, we're mendicants, not brokers."
"Do we have a plan for Dayn's restoration?"
Saul looks back at him in surprise. "He just said he did," he replies nodding from Daynadrian to Snake in turn, "and you said you were going to do research. Sounds like you have it covered."
"Yes, sir," Daynadrian puts in hurriedly. "Between all these arcanists, I'm sure we've got avenues to explore. This was my misstep; I'm not asking you to get involved." He glares at Snake and Gristav. "You can return to Gold Goblin business; I hope not to bother you with this matter again."
Snake gives Gristav an incredulous look. Did he really just ask that? Looking to Saul, "You'll have to forgive him, Saul, he tends to talk so much he never really listens to what anyone else is saying." He then turns his attention back on Gristav. "Seriously?" he says as he shakes his head in disbelief.
"I guess I'll get to exploring those avenues", Gristav says after Saul and Bojasc leave. "Dayn, Kane. Samaritha. Well, wish me luck."
"Why do men think red hair is so much sexier than brunette?"
Braddon shrugs.
"Where I come from all the girls have dark hair. If I want to see that I just have to look in a mirror. So I guess it's just a matter of trying something new and that's why Shorafa wants 'exotics'. In a land of all blondes those dark haired beauties would be the ones in great demand, but here Anya will have to distinguish herself some other way. She was good with my manacles. I'd like to play with her again sometime but I'd have to be in the mood. See, the being exotic only works the first time. If all the customer wanted was something new then there's nothing you can do to get them to come back. But if they're into tying up, or receiving, or feet, or licking, or food, or spanking, or..."Braddon pauses and looks at Lexy uncertainly.
"Or whatever. If you can give the customer what they want the first time, they'll be back for more. And that'd be where Anya can get repeat customers. And they can spread the word and she'll get more. I guess."
Braddon squeezes Lexy's hand.
"I don't have a thing for redheads. I like you 'cause you're playful. Laid back. Friendly. Fun. Open. Chatty. Down to earth. And very attractive. The red hair is an added bonus," Braddon says swirling a lock through his fingers.
"I guess I'll get to exploring those avenues", Gristav says after Saul and Bojasc leave. "Dayn, Kane. Samaritha. Well, wish me luck."
"You? I don't think so, bub. All you'll succeed at is pissing people off. You heard the kid, ALL of us she wants to meet with... not just you. If I'm the young elf here, there's no way in the deepest, darkest part of Hell I'd trust you to get me out of such a fix. We wait for Braddon and we wait 'til morning." He then looks over at Daynadrian, "Hope this works for you, bub. Not a real fan of this town at nighttime. Or anytime really."
Shrugging his shoulders "As you wish milady" Phillip throws back the second shot...
Fort Save:
...this time unable to sweep all of the liquor from his mouth before it lingers. He coughs a few times and thumps his chest as his eyes redden and water. With a momentarily hoarse voice he rasps "Now... sparkling and elvish seems much the better choice hereafter?"
"I guess I'll get to exploring those avenues", Gristav says after Saul and Bojasc leave. "Dayn, Kane. Samaritha. Well, wish me luck.""You? I don't think so, bub. All you'll succeed at is pissing people off. You heard the kid, ALL of us she wants to meet with... not just you. If I'm the young elf here, there's no way in the deepest, darkest part of Hell I'd trust you to get me out of such a fix. We wait for Braddon and we wait 'til morning." He then looks over at Daynadrian, "Hope this works for you, bub. Not a real fan of this town at nighttime. Or anytime really."
"I see. So you propose to honor her demand, but not in detail? Because 'all Saul's men' would be Phillip, as well, and Bojasc, Deverin... even perhaps, until tomorrow, Samaritha... Thuvalia? Does Shorafa know of Malkith, to miss him? We cannot obey her intent. Nor apparently, Saul's. So if we're going to disobey, her and Saul both, we risk least with me, alone. And that's my risk, my choice, to make. We're flouting every authority you might base your forbiddance on, with the possible exception of force. Don't try that."
"I'm willing to make people angry, because angry people wax honest, and honest people can be helped. Honest emotions can be weighed. Shorafa is already angry, but not with me. Surely with Dayn, perhaps with Saul. But I've locked Dayn in my room, and Saul, who blustered strict rules of avoidance at the first mention of Shorafa, and so never heard the rest, is unaware of my coming to her. Also, I am arguably the leastwise 'Saul's' man, and our best option for sending her someone, who's an unsatisfactory chew-toy. Or do you prefer your odds, Snake? You know, what, a made-up name, the events of the past day, being remembered by strangers? You could tell her very little about us, less about yourself, in your laconic drone, and quite possibly, intrigue her, and be kept. You'd wait for Braddon; would he be better?"
"You might, all of you, dislike me, distrust me, disdain me. Let's argue I deserve all that. None of you- and nor will she- want to keep me. I'll be back."
"And now, I'm going."
"You'll be able to get a key from Larur.", Gristav says to Dayn.
"A key? To what?" Daynadrian asks. "I have my keys."
"You? I don't think so, bub. All you'll succeed at is pissing people off. You heard the kid, ALL of us she wants to meet with... not just you. If I'm the young elf here, there's no way in the deepest, darkest part of Hell I'd trust you to get me out of such a fix. We wait for Braddon and we wait 'til morning."
"He's right. I'm not putting my fate in the hands of any one of you. She wants to see us as a group, and she wants to see us tomorrow. Besides, I'm supposed to be the one to bring you all in, and I won't until I've gotten everyone who'll agree to go." He looks back to Snake. "What does he mean? Where's Malkith?"
"Because 'all Saul's men' would be Phillip, as well, and Bojasc, Deverin... even perhaps, until tomorrow, Samaritha... Thuvalia? Does Shorafa know of Malkith, to miss him? We cannot obey her intent.
Samaritha has been listening with some bewilderment to the conversation flying around her but puts in, "If you're parsing terms, I think it's fair to say that neither Thuvalia nor I are Saul's 'men.' And if the meeting is set for tomorrow, then I won't be working for the Gold Goblin anymore at all." Daynadrian scowls and starts to try to explain, but she raises her hands with finality. "I don't know, I don't want to know, and I won't repeat anything I've heard. It's none of my business. But," she looks at Gristav, "if you want to help someone, make sure they want your help first." She turns back to Daynadrian. "If you need anything, I'll be at the Cypherlodge. I'll be really unimportant at the Cypherlodge," she smiles, "but I'll see what I can do."
He coughs a few times and thumps his chest as his eyes redden and water. With a momentarily hoarse voice he rasps "Now... sparkling and elvish seems much the better choice hereafter?"
Ethel is somewhat mollified to see Phil fail to down his second shot as easily as his first. She wipes her eyes, shudders, and takes a therapeutic sip of her rum cocktail. "Desna's stars, does anyone really enjoy that," she asks, "or do they just drink it to impress each other?"
As Lexy and Braddon walk and talk, the lights and broad cobblestoned common of Free-Coin District come into sight up ahead. In contrast to the empty streets of River District, Free-Coin teems with life, people moving everywhere in pairs and larger groups, talking and laughing and unwary of the night around them. As Lexy had said, uniformed Gendarmes are prominently visible patrolling the crowd. In addition to restaurants and pawn shops, Braddon can see a long, low building, clearly a renovated warehouse, on the riverbank; neat script painted near its main entrance identifies it as "the Watercress." Further north and on the left, a grand, square building stands, all white and gold like Abadar's vault and lit up with a multitude of oil lamps.
"Dayn, I understand you're stressed, but that's the first you've said, you were to bring. How are you to assemble, all the king's men? And without Saul's knowledge, and assent? One man, I could see, in fact, when you glared for silence, that's what I thou... But, as advised, Gristav will be waiting, to be asked for help. I'll keep the secret, but Braddon's mind is a sieve, and Phillip's silence might cost. And the others... I don't see you enlisting them. But I suppose that's not my problem."
Snake looks at the Gristav through narrowed eyes. "You really are that much of a fool, aren't you?" he asks rhetorically.
"And now, I'm going."
Stepping aside, "Don't hurry back for all our sakes," he says as a matter of fact.
"He's right. I'm not putting my fate in the hands of any one of you. She wants to see us as a group, and she wants to see us tomorrow. Besides, I'm supposed to be the one to bring you all in, and I won't until I've gotten everyone who'll agree to go." He looks back to Snake. "What does he mean? Where's Malkith?"
"Malkith's long gone."
Braddon gazes at the lights and shops around Free-Coin and relaxes somewhat at the presence of so many gendarmes. He jangles his heavy coin pouch discretely near Lexy.
"Where to first? What's a Watercress? Is that the Dragon's hoard?"
"Oh, the Watercress," she dismisses it with a tone of contempt. "That's the one no one goes to anymore." A small knot of patrons walking through the door as she is saying this does nothing to shake her conviction in public opinion. "Yes, that's the Hoard! The big gold one! It just looks like money, doesn't it?" she asks avariciously.
"Dayn, I understand you're stressed, but that's the first you've said, you were to bring. How are you to assemble, all the king's men?"
"It's the first I've had a chance," the boy snaps sullenly. "Snake had just asked about the meeting when Samaritha and Saul showed up. And no one's said anything about mustering the entire staff but you. She specifically wants those of us not involved in standard casino business, and I specifically want people I can trust. The two of you, Braddon, Malkith, Phillip, if he'll agree to it. I don't want to get the girls involved with whatever Shorafa has in mind, Bojasc never leaves Saul's side, and 'Dandy' Deverin wouldn't scuff his fancy boots to kick dirt on me if I were on fire."
Smiling more warmly Phillip ventures "There is a certain chest thumping ogrishness to the drink, though in truth many sip rather than swallow entire" winking to show that he half expected Ethel's reaction "It's also the simplest way to lose one's head in as short a time as possible... and as such has a steady place in the hands of drunkards and melancholics."
"Yes, that's the Hoard! The big gold one! It just looks like money, doesn't it?" she asks avariciously.
"Yup. Looks like their money. Shall we go and give them some more? They obviously need it," Braddon smirks.
"What do you mean, Malkith's gone? Where is he?"
"It's also the simplest way to lose one's head in as short a time as possible... and as such has a steady place in the hands of drunkards and melancholics."
"If you can afford the drink, what do you have to be melancholy about?" Ethel asks rhetorically. "I'd think I'd prefer to at least enjoy earning my headache in the morning."
"Dayn, I understand you're stressed, but that's the first you've said, you were to bring. How are you to assemble, all the king's men?""It's the first I've had a chance," the boy snaps sullenly. "Snake had just asked about the meeting when Samaritha and Saul showed up. And no one's said anything about mustering the entire staff but you. She specifically wants those of us not involved in standard casino business, and I specifically want people I can trust. The two of you, Braddon, Malkith, Phillip, if he'll agree to it. I don't want to get the girls involved with whatever Shorafa has in mind, Bojasc never leaves Saul's side, and 'Dandy' Deverin wouldn't scuff his fancy boots to kick dirt on me if I were on fire."
"I hope we both come to revise that impression. While I can't currently disagree, I'll point out he hasn't seen us do anything useful, either. I suspect better communications might increase general respect. There surely hasn't been time, but perhaps as little inclination."
"Dayn, if you like, you can remain here, elvishly quiet while I humanly rest. Or if you return to your room, be silent. If Thuvalia hears you, she may want to see you. But are you not possibly underestimating her?"
"Samaritha, If you'd have a half-elf's hand at packing or porting... well, you'll have to ask for it.", Gristav smiles faintly, then quizzically creases his brow, and asks, "Will the kitten, be welcome?"
"What do you mean, Malkith's gone? Where is he?"
"He's taken it on himself to look into something personally, leaving a note to that effect. He certainly ought to have asked, but he likely either had to move swiftly, or wanted to avoid being discouragingly disagreed with. In any case, he's beyond reach, if not worry, and least said is perhaps best said."
Braddon and Lexy make their way across the busy plaza to the Dragon's Hoard. Unlike the Watercress, whose humble origins as a warehouse are clear despite its tidy renovation, the Hoard is built to impose, square as an Abadarian vault. Its white paint and gleaming gilt accents are accentuated by the multiplicity of oil lamps in sconces and on posts around the building; the wide entrance doors, in particular, are as well lit as noonday. A steady stream of cheerful and raucous customers enters and exits through the glare.
As Braddon and Lexy join the stream to the interior of the casino, they find the inside as brightly lit as the outside, as tall and spacious and just as crowded. Knots of patrons surround the gambling stations to the point that it's difficult to tell which games are on offer without making a concerted effort to penetrate the crowds. A bar seems to take up most of the western wall, and wide staircases on either side lead up to a balcony which skirts the edge of the building and offers a bird's-eye view of the main floor. The cashiers' cage is evident toward the rear of the casino, where watchful Gendarmes stand duty on either side of the queues.
Braddon looks around, partly in amazement and partly to see where guards and exits are placed. He makes a quick calculation how long it would take for four Varisian stooges to get themselves killed trying to rob this place.
"Not bad," he concedes to Lexy.
"So, we gonna lose my money first?" he gestures to the tables.
"Or our senses?" he gestures to the bar.
"Or shall we step upstairs and look down and people watch?" he scrutinizes the people upstairs.
"Aye, but that wasn't the cheapest whisky one could buy..." implying that the lesser and destitute could just as easily gorge themselves on a cheaper fluid. Idly he draws a copper piece and sets it dancing across his knuckles. With a slight lull in the conversation Phil spends a few moments looking out across the crowd, before turning back to his inamorata and proferring a brief smile.
"True, but if you're wealthy and unhappy, why spend your money on expensive whisky when you could buy a more pleasant journey to forgetfulness -- or be more frugal and get drunk just as fast on the cheap stuff?"
"So, we gonna lose my money first?" he gestures to the tables.
"Or our senses?" he gestures to the bar.
"Or shall we step upstairs and look down and people watch?" he scrutinizes the people upstairs.
She giggles. "I think I've had enough to drink. I have to work in the morning. Let's go watch the Ghoulette for a while."
Braddon looks around, partly in amazement and partly to see where guards and exits are placed. He makes a quick calculation how long it would take for four Varisian stooges to get themselves killed trying to rob this place.
There is only the one set of double doors for patrons to enter and exit the establishment, which makes sense for security reasons. Braddon is quite sure that there are back doors that the staff uses somewhere behind the bar and cashiers' cages, but they aren't easily accessible from the casino floor. This building is vault-like not only in its shape but in its lack of windows, such as those Volo and his goons used as an escape hatch. Looking around at the crowd, the huge floor with its many game tables, the long bar, the multiple uniformed Gendarmes, Braddon appreciates for the first time just how much of a rough start-up the Gold Goblin is.
Phil spends a few moments looking out across the crowd, before turning back to his inamorata and proferring a brief smile.
As Phil looks out over the gaming floor from his perch atop the bar stool, he spies an unexpectedly familiar face: Braddon is standing in the crowd, with a redhead on his arm. Not Samaritha, this girl appears to be fully human.
Noting Braddon in the crowd Phillip inwardly smiles... but doesn't seek recourse to chase him down from the bar... figuring that it would be simpler for the diminished man to instead flag him down if or when he sought liquid refreshment. To Ethel he shrugs "Being only fleetingly wealthy and not inclined towards drinking to oblivion I could only speculate" winking as emphasis "At any rate, elvish and sparkling should suffice for now no?"