Braddon, Gristav, and Snake depart the Goblin, heading north toward the erstwhile office of Nathanael Weatherby and the secretive upstairs flat. The pedestrian traffic has picked up as the lunch hour is approaching, and they see a few street vendors heading toward their usual corners, pushing handcarts that trail the aromas of cooked meat or fresh bread.
They slow their approach as they near the building which still houses a milliner and Braddon's favorite cobbler. The alley which gives access to the second story will be blocked to their view until they are almost upon it; alternatively, the approach up the stair through the scribe's office and the hidden door is available.
Smiling Phillip nods "Aye, that there shall... it's Varisian Caravan night after all. And hopefully a sideroom with furniture of a more suitable sizing for our folk. "
"We should probably go round through the alley. I dunno if we locked the back door. The scribe put up a sign before he left and locked up, so I doubt the front is open."
Braddon walks past the front and scans the sign and door as he does, but doesn't stop for a close inspection. He continues on to the alley.
"We locked the door, we took the key. Some part of we brought it before, and again now, and now gives it to you." Gristav makes an empty gesture that is somehow filled with a single key. Smiling, he offers it to Braddon. "Return it, and we may be as lucky again. I recommend you loot linens and other portables, the richer wrapped in the poorer. I'm assigning myself to watch for whoever might be watching for you. I know I've no talent for it, but you two, together, are a better division than any other, for the entirety of our tasks here."
Leaving behind the activity at the Gold Goblin, Phillip and Ethel reach the road and stroll past the looming structure of the Mystery of the Gate. "I suppose Maddy's in there working," Ethel remarks, an air of smug satisfaction about her at the thought of Maddy sweeping floors and making beds while she's enjoying a leisurely promenade on Phil's arm on the street outside.
Gristav takes up a familiar posture on the street corner, trying to look like a casual pedestrian pausing for a rest and not a suspicious loiterer casing the joint.
Braddon slips back down the alley whence the stairs ascend to Lil's hideout. He spies no sign of activity but remembers the heavy curtains at the windows which could conceal a watcher and the creaking tread partway up the staircase.
Braddon's voice is low and quiet.
"Avoid the step fifth from the top. It creaks conveniently. Let me know if you see any movement at that window looking over the steps."
With one hand on his short sword and the other on the key Gristav gratefully gave, Braddon ascends the steps softly afoot. Atop the stairs, he waits for Snake, then swiftly puts the key in the lock and pushes the door wide open.
With an impish chuckle and puckish mien Phillip suggests "We could always drop in if you wished?... ask to see a room and test if it measures to our standards?" his tone though betraying that he meant it only in jest. Continuing as they wombled "In truth though, especially if the space is to be now shared, a degree of polish should be put upon our own chambers. Unless we both intend to use armchair as garderobe, floor as dresser and use a stepladder to reach the bed each night."
"Hmmm," Ethel replies thoughtfully. "There's not a lot of floor space, but there's a lot of air space above our heads. If we constructed a loft, we could store our clothes and things up there! And we could replace that one huge chair with two of the proper size...." Ethel constructs walk-in closets in the air while Phillip wonders to what extent her plans will depend on the goodwill of Cas Cazynsik.
They stroll on in the direction of Zincher's arena. The gates now open, the clusters of waiting men have dispersed into the interior, but a healthy stream of spectators are still arriving, collecting handbills listing the day's planned bouts from bored-looking thugs standing beneath the raised portcullises.
Snake nods as he's warned of the fifth step and keeps an eye on the window as he waits for Braddon to get a few steps ahead before following - making sure he actually avoids that crazy fifth step.
Pondering that there surely must at least be one other carpenter in the cesspool of Riddleport, Phil guides them past a bored thug so as to snaffle a handbill and scan the day's bouts...
Phillip acquires a bout listing and quickly runs an eye down it. It appears that the slate is soon to be underway, if it hasn't already begun, and will continue until sundown. The only animal event seems to be a round of bear-baiting in the late afternoon. Ranef is scheduled to fight after that.
While he is glancing over the handbill, Ethel has turned away to the northeast. "Do we have time to stroll through the market?" she asks, gesturing through the line of buildings to the unseen Leeward Common on the other side. "Some fresh berries and cream might be nice."
As Braddon starts up the staircase, Snake keeps an eye on the curtained second-story window but sees no signs of movement. He follows Braddon up and joins him on the cramped landing before the half-elf quickly unlocks and throws open the door.
The room within appears empty and unchanged from their last visit. It will take a more thorough examination, however, for Braddon to be certain no one has been and gone in the interim.
Phillip muses a moment with eyes to the sky before nodding affirmation "Aye, that we should." chuckling and running a hand through his hair before stretching his neck "Surprising to say, but I've not taken a turn through there since arriving in Riddleport... can't say that some fresh fruit and a few colorful knickknacks wouldn't help brighten the room at the Goblin either." proferring a crooked elbow to allow him to lead her onwards and through.
The first thing Braddon does is head toward the secret door.
"Close the door. Don't touch anything," he tells Snake.
He makes his way down the steps to the office and when sure there's no one about he returns to upstairs to Lil's hideout.
Meticulously, he searches for recent signs of passage, paying particular attention to the false bottomed draw. He also tries to put things back where they might have been originally.
"We spent the night here hoping she'd return, but she didn't. Took turns sleeping on the floor. Wanted to sleep on the bed but Gristav wouldn't allow it. Well, she isn't using it now. So I should keep it. Moving it will be an issue. Anything you can do to help?"
Braddon waggles his fingers in a poor imitiation of psuedo spellcasting to suggest the help he was thinking of.
Snake shuts the door as quiet as possible and then takes a look around the place. Lucky hops down from his shoulder and stands on his hind legs, sniffing the air before running around the place crazily, inspecting anything and everything. Snake simply shakes his head at the silly mongoose.
"We spent the night here hoping she'd return, but she didn't. Took turns sleeping on the floor. Wanted to sleep on the bed but Gristav wouldn't allow it. Well, she isn't using it now. So I should keep it. Moving it will be an issue. Anything you can do to help?"
Braddon waggles his fingers in a poor imitation of pseudo spellcasting to suggest the help he was thinking of.
Snake stares at Braddon a moment as if frozen before he simply just shakes his head at the silly man. "Yeah, I can help you carry it; but it might look kind of odd carrying a bed through the middle of town. How about we not worry with the bed right now and concentrate more on finding this Lil person, hm? I'll help you take a look around to see if there's anything that might lead us to her if that's what we need to do. Anything specific I should be looking for?" he asks as he proceeds to inspect the room as thorough as possible.
As slowly as he attempts to look like he's perusing the options on display in shop windows, Gristav feels he is starting to stretch the credulity of his performance. As near as he can tell, no one appears to be watching him, but he feels conspicuous in his loitering. At one point, he is momentarily alarmed to spy a figure moving in the scribe's locked office, but he quickly determines it to be Braddon, checking for any signs of Lil Scarlet coming or going, no doubt.
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Meanwhile, inside, Snake and Braddon conduct a painstaking examination.
In addition, the apartment contains a small wooden table with two chairs, a dressing table with a mirror and low cushioned stool, a chest of drawers, a standing wardrobe, and a round canopied bed in pride of place in the center of the back wall like a throne on a dais. You detect no signs of recent occupation.
The bed looks as if it will take some effort to disassemble and relocate. The sheets and curtains can be easily removed and folded, and the mattress rolled into a rather cumbersome bundle, but the circular base and bedposts can certainly not be carried out the door and down the rickety stairs in one piece.
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Phillip and Ethel stroll through the market at Leeward Common, perusing the merchandise on offer. Ethel gives the vendors hawking fish stew and meat pies a wide berth, turning a little pale at the aromas of their wares, but is able to find a farmer's cart sporting basketsful of a variety of berries; having purchased a small pot of cream which was unwrapped from a turban of dripping cloth to keep it cool against the rising heat of the day, she is pleased with her excursion.
The cobblestones around the well in the center of the common are packed with carts and stands, kiosks and wandering merchants, mostly selling perishable goods from the farms outside the city. Bread, vegetables, fruits, cheeses, and meat are all on offer, as are fresh herbs. A chubby-cheeked girl is selling floral nosegays that will surely be wilted long before sunset from a basket alongside her mother's wagon.
Phillip adds to the haul of the day with a handful of flatbreads, a hardy cheese and a half-dozen apples. As he wrestles with the logistics of managing the assortment of comestibles, he adds a sheet to the pile - using it as a ready means of combining them all into a single load. Mulling over the sun's path and that they're freshly laden he queries Ethel "Are you keen to come to the meeting with Marce? - or would you prefer back within the Goblin?" asked honestly and leaving the preference solely up to his paramour.
Braddon breathes a sigh of relief.
"Okay. Doesn't look like she's been back here. So, we've still got the jump on her."
Braddon looks wistfully at the bed.
"I suppose, if it's too big to move to the Goblin, I could move in here."
He turns back to Snake.
"Thanks for the help. False alarm. Let's get back to the others."
As slowly as he attempts to look like he's perusing the options on display in shop windows, Gristav feels he is starting to stretch the credulity of his performance. As near as he can tell, no one appears to be watching him, but he feels conspicuous in his loitering. At one point, he is momentarily alarmed to spy a figure moving in the scribe's locked office, but he quickly determines it to be Braddon, checking for any signs of Lil Scarlet coming or going, no doubt.
Daylight no doubt being helpful...
To draw attention away from Braddon, Gristav gives an obvious shrug, and walks to the center of the nearest intersection, where he carefully chooses a footing for his staff, crouching beside it as if sheltering in a shadow cast by the cyphergate's apex. Judging the staff's verticality by lifting it slightly free of the ground, and letting it pendulate to rest, he carefully observes... something, about the cyphergate, or so it would appear.
Measuring one staff's length closer to the gate (or further, whichever is closer to Weatherby's), Gristav repeats the exacting process.
Looking around, "Yeah. Get back to the others. Oh what fun..." As they move to take their leave, "This 'Lil' own a bird?"
Gristav's maneuvers draw some nervous glances from the passersby, growing more numerous as the lunch hour approaches. Most give him a wide berth, figuring he's a wizard of some kind or in league with the Cypherlodge somehow; one fellow watches him bemusedly for a moment, then approaches and tells him helpfully, "It's just shy of noon."
"Are you keen to come to the meeting with Marce? - or would you prefer back within the Goblin?" asked honestly and leaving the preference solely up to his paramour.
She mulls the question a moment, squinting up at the Cyphergate to gauge the time. "Actually, if you don't mind, I might try to find Almah on her lunch break and talk to her about those pockets. Unless you'd rather I go with you to the wharves."
Phillip bows a slight dip before shouldering their load of fruit and comestibles and offering the other elbow. The path he has in mind is back to the Goblin to drop off the goods and part ways with Ethel, before continuing onwards to find Marce upon the wharf.
Looking around, "Yeah. Get back to the others. Oh what fun..." As they move to take their leave, "This 'Lil' own a bird?"
"Yeah. A thrush. No one's seen it. She was in disguise on Sunday night. Dressed as a Varisian with a basket. We found the empty poison vials and some scarves in that false bottomed draw on Toilday, but no sign of bird or basket. We know she's on the ship 'cause that's how the scribe tried to contact her on Wealday."
Braddon locks the door as they head back down to the street via the alley.
Braddon and Snake slip out of the alley, trying to look as if they've just been taking an innocent shortcut from the next street, to rejoin Gristav, who is squinting up at the Cyphergate like a surveyor or a putative landscape artist.
Gristav's maneuvers draw some nervous glances from the passersby, growing more numerous as the lunch hour approaches. Most give him a wide berth, figuring he's a wizard of some kind or in league with the Cypherlodge somehow; one fellow watches him bemusedly for a moment, then approaches and tells him helpfully, "It's just shy of noon."
"...yes, well it's just over four cubits, so if we carry the..." wrinkling his brow at the collision of whatever he was thinking and the helpful interloper's injection, Gristav blinked at the man, a long moment. "Oh, you mean, the time. Say, that's clever. By the shadow?", Gris asked, pointing toward the cyphergate.
"Aye, where the shadow falls," he replies encouragingly. "Best way to set a time to meet up with mates or a ladyfriend. 'When the shadow reaches the rune that looks like a gull': something like that."
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Phillip leaves his bundled purchases at the Goblin, where Ethel picks up one of her spare dresses to take to Almah for consultation about concealed weapons. Ethel departs for the boarding house where Almah works as a domestic, while Phillip heads south toward the Wharf District. Marce had indicated that he would meet him on the road between the wharves and the shipyard when he had his information, so Phil makes his way to the corner where the street meets the boardwalk, to give himself an eye out in both directions. The wharves are loud and hectic at noontime, busy with laders loading and unloading cargo, sailors coming and going from ships and taverns, and men trundling handcarts back and forth. Marce is not immediately evident ... but lunchtime's not yet past, either.
As they make their way toward Gristav, "So it's the docks we're headed? Or you got some place else you wanna check for this missing lady."
Phillip settles into his selected stoop and whiles away the time casting eyes over passersby to see if he can pick out the size of their purses and where any blades might be concealed. He had no intention of testing his hand... but it was always useful to keep his eye in.
As they make their way toward Gristav, "So it's the docks we're headed? Or you got some place else you wanna check for this missing lady."
"She's out to sea. Best try the docks again."
"Aye, where the shadow falls," he replies encouragingly. "Best way to set a time to meet up with mates or a ladyfriend. 'When the shadow reaches the rune that looks like a gull': something like that."
"Do they all have names, then? There's often wisdom in common callings. And responses. I saw the sailors, respond to the screech of the tinned roofs, all run as one toward the docks. Well, toward the ships. They knew, to expect that wave. Is that common wisdom? Does this gate often excite the townsfolk, so?"
"Do they all have names, then?"
"Well...," the man gazes up at the 'Gate, scratching his head, "I wouldn't say names exactly. Most of them don't look like much at all."
"I saw the sailors, respond to the screech of the tinned roofs, all run as one toward the docks. Well, toward the ships. They knew, to expect that wave. Is that common wisdom? Does this gate often excite the townsfolk, so?"
"I...," he stammers, "I heard about some trouble at the docks. Didn't affect us here in Leeward. Maybe the sailors were excited. Most of us just use it to tell the time of day."
"Do they all have names, then?""Well...," the man gazes up at the 'Gate, scratching his head, "I wouldn't say names exactly. Most of them don't look like much at all."
"I saw the sailors, respond to the screech of the tinned roofs, all run as one toward the docks. Well, toward the ships. They knew, to expect that wave. Is that common wisdom? Does this gate often excite the townsfolk, so?""I...," he stammers, "I heard about some trouble at the docks. Didn't affect us here in Leeward. Maybe the sailors were excited. Most of us just use it to tell the time of day."
"Well, I very much doubt that was its purpose. Nor staggering waves. Perhaps, screeching roofs, with waves inbound, to caution allies, wi' rare-heard sound...?" Gristav could have been quoting, waiting for recognition of the rhyme... or just pondering.
"Not to keep you, from your lunch. I'm for the Three-billed Duck... Yourself?"
"Not to keep you, from your lunch. I'm for the Three-billed Duck... Yourself?"
Braddon glares at Gristav.
"The Duck? What about the docks?"
The man manages a stammering demurral to Gristav's half-offered invitation, claiming a prior engagement in another part of town. He edges away with a weak smile as Braddon and Snake arrive, a lesson about the consequences of showing kindness to strangers perhaps learned.
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Phil maintains his vigil, testing his wits and judgment in a ritual familiar from his early tutelage in Underbridge. Money pouch visible and hands full: good mark if you can move quickly and have an escape route planned ... Heavy coat: too many pockets and layers valuables could be hidden in ... Purse visible, but the bearer looks wary and alert: not worth the risk.... One thing differs from Magnimar: The citizens of Riddleport carry their blades openly; the question is not 'who is armed' but 'how skilled might they be with their weapons they display.'
The waterfront taverns are busy for the lunch hour; a not-entirely-appetizing smell of cooked meat and rancid gravy mixes with the stench of salt water, unwashed sailor, mud, and fish already in the air. In retrospect, it's probably best that Ethel chose not to bring her delicate stomach.
After some time, Phillip sees Marce heading in his direction down the boardwalk. The other halfling spies him as well and, when he reaches the corner and turns north toward his workplace, invites Phil to walk with him with a jerk of his chin.
Snake rolls his eyes as it seems the magus wants to live his life at the Three-billed Duck. "You can spend all morning eating if you want, bub. That won't be me. I wanna get this woman found and get this over with. And we're wasting time watching you eat. You're either going with us or you're not. I don't care which."
Kicking off the stoop, Phillip moves over and keeps step with Marce - waiting for his fellow halfling to venture the first words of conversation.
"Not to keep you, from your lunch. I'm for the Three-billed Duck... Yourself?"Braddon glares at Gristav.
"The Duck? What about the docks?"
"What about them? They'll be there.", Gristav asks, bowing genially to the stranger, sidling away at Braddon's entrance. "Remember waiting for the ferry. Time and tide wait for no man, but neither do they lie in wait, and pounce. Unless you'll admit to a need of me..."
Snake rolls his eyes as it seems the magus wants to live his life at the Three-billed Duck. "You can spend all morning eating if you want, bub. That won't be me. I wanna get this woman found and get this over with. And we're wasting time watching you eat. You're either going with us or you're not. I don't care which."
"Well, I do. We've contacts, made and renewed there, that might be of interest and use in the problems we face today. And tomorrow. Which is when I expect the fastest ship in Riddleport, a ship of which the captain and crew, in contrast to you, see me, as good luck. So... Good Luck.", Gristav farewells, stepping away, only to turn an instant later. "Snake. I notice you're always rushing. Are you rushing toward something, or away from something, else? Because, wherever you go, you will still be there."
It was sophistic, and rhetorical.
Gristav left for the Duck.
As Phillip falls in beside him, Marce informs him, "There's a few ships heading toward the Cove, depending on when you're wanting to leave. One leaving tonight, if you're that keen to be gone. Five gold a head passage."
Nodding and keeping a businesslike tone "What's the names of the boats? - and would you be acting as the go-between, or should my men deal direct with the ship's captains?"
"Well, I do. We've contacts, made and renewed there, that might be of interest and use in the problems we face today. And tomorrow. Which is when I expect the fastest ship in Riddleport, a ship of which the captain and crew, in contrast to you, see me, as good luck. So... Good Luck."
"The fastest ship in Riddleport? But we have to wait till tomorrow. Hmmm, well done. Fast work. I'll... Braddon looks wistfully in the direction of the Three-billed Duck.
"I'll go speak to Phil, and see what he can arrange. We probably need to be out of here on the first ship we can, just in case Shorafa dumps her own flunkies on it."Braddon waves to Gristav and heads for the docks.
Braddon turns to Snake as they walk.
"Lil has a bird. What do you know about magic users with pets?"
Braddon peers about Snake's shoulder a little.
Snake ponders the question as if struggling to remember. "For some reason I wanna say those with pets are more like myself and that Samaritha woman. Nothing like the bartender at the Publican. Basically those that deal in the arcane, not those who use divine magic." Trying to think of anything else, he simply shakes his head. "That's all I got for now, bub. Nothing else is hittin' me at the moment."
"What's the names of the boats? - and would you be acting as the go-between, or should my men deal direct with the ship's captains?"
"Best you approach the ships yourself ... but drop my name, so they know I've already told you the price before they quote you a higher one," he smirks. "The Coral Plunder sails tonight; her captain is Ferdinand Haddock. The Fearful Jewel is having some fittings overhauled; they won't be ready to go until Sunday night or Moonday; Jude Teach is her commander. I won't go so far as to say they're honorable men, but they're not outright villains. If they don't believe there's anyone who'll pay a ransom for your men, they'll be glad enough to accept their coin to take them where they need to go."
Phillip honestly nods with satisfaction at Marce's answers "Quick work, good work and you have my thanks." taking out a gold coin to set dancing over his knuckles before offering it to Marce "Will you take the coin as well?"
He waves off the proffered payment with a friendly snort. "Buy something for Ethel; my time doesn't command such an exorbitant wage." He pauses, then asks, "Will you be looking for return fare, when your business in the Cove is done?"
Gristav strolls back past the House of the Silken Veil, its plaza now busier with the swell of traffic that comes with the lunch hour. Across the street from the prostitutes on display, a real-estate-savvy lunch counter is packed, the clear draw being its collection of stools, chairs, crates, and other makeshift seats from which the girls can be ogled rather than the rather stringy and undercooked meat pies they're selling.
The outside dining at the Three-Billed Duck is similarly busy, if not yet at standing-room-only, its lone advantage being the food. Gristav sees Sludge outside the railing before spying the gnome at the table on the other side, engrossed in a plate of griddlecakes.
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With a brief flourish and smirk the gold coin disappears back into Phil's clothes as he ponders the question. Shrugging "They will likely be looking for passage back, but best to distance yourself from those thoughts." pondering whether Marce would really want to know that the men seeking passage would be looking to return with a woman in bondage against her will.
Bothered as he can't help but continue to think hard on the subject, feeling as if he should know a great deal more about it, something new occurs to him. "Wait. Wait a minute, bub. Something else just hit me." He pauses a moment, then shakes his head. "Doesn't make any sense. Hm. Anyway, I believe the animal serves the one who summoned it." I don't remember ever summoning Lucky. He was already there. It seems the more I recall, the less I understand. He then turns his head to the side, glancing toward his pack as his thoughts are interrupted by a certain chattering mongoose. A wry grin forms, "Whatever, Luck. Yeah, laugh it up, furball," he tells him, shaking his head. Turning back to Braddon, "Sounds like your gal Lil is some type of wizard. Either that or she's got someone who's working with her that is."
Braddon nods and tries to take on board Snake's information.
"Well, we figured she did magic. Gramma got spelled or something before Lil threw her over the cliff. Gramma said Lil had no animal, though she did have a basket. We've found neither. But if she's got some other wizard's animal with her.... Malkith said she may not be working on her own. Maybe she's working for a wizard that uses his animal to follow her. Maybe even Shorafa. She did stuff to Dayn. But she wants us to find Lil. Maybe she's being clever and Lil is still working for her. My head hurts."