"Master Hargreaves," Tendal rises in turn to follow them into the office , "I've something for you as well, downstairs in my room: the liquidation of your ill-gotten effects from the Gray Master's den."
Snake makes his way back along the path he cleared through the furniture -- someone will be tasked with returning it all where it goes, he supposes, eventually -- and into the kitchen. As he approaches the swinging doors, he can hear casual conversation, and, entering, he finds Braddon and Gristav preparing a meal.
"What's a mole?"
Smiling at Tendal and not excluding him Phillip clarifies "Excellent good... has it been disbursed to the others as well or am I the first?" allowing an answer before stating "And it was fairly won, at least by us... a man throws down against another and he stands to lose what he's got." throwing a neutral glance towards Bojasc as he completes the words.
To Saul he adds in passing "Unless you've a need for me I'll be out amongst the smallfolk disbursing the tokens tonight."
"What's a mole?"
"It's a blind animal that digs holes underground. Why? It's not what's for dinner, is it? Because I'll just starve if it is," he says with absolute seriousness. "Not really that hungry anyway."
"What's a mole?"
"It's related to a pemmican", Gristav jokes. "Well, actually, I suppose it is. To make a mol-ay, you grind or mash a food-thing. And a pemmican is ground and mashed meat and berries. It's a trail food, keeps for weeks. It's not very good, made like that. It'll keep you alive and in motion, but it wouldn't keep you at a table. So we're not going to add the fat, and we are going to add some wine, some butter... I think it will still be a pemmican."
Drawing a line under it, Gristav directs, "Use a spoon in a bowl; grind the thin-sliced meat around until it's shards. Put the shards in another bowl, and do the next slice, we need a half a bowl of shards, at least..."
Gris begins toasting the slices of bread, for the eventual... drunken? No, prodigal, pemmican. Not trail food, but home, and celebrated.
Smiling at Tendal and not excluding him Phillip clarifies "Excellent good... has it been disbursed to the others as well or am I the first?"
"It was you asked me to handle it," Tendal replies, "so I assumed I should return the proceeds to you. No one else has asked me about it, at any rate. Whenever you're done here, come down and retrieve it. I'll be glad to be rid of the responsibility." He gives Saul a nod and then heads for the stairs.
Saul crosses to his desk, followed by Bojasc, and picks up a sack which rattles like a set of draughts. "We decided to modify some of the chips." He withdraws a red token and displays a fresh brand in the shape of a rather primitive mug on one side. "That way, we put them back in circulation after they're spent: You win a chip with a mug on it, you can cash it out for coin or exchange it for an ale. Adds a bit of excitement to the cheaper payouts, no?" He grins at his own cleverness as he hands the bag to Phillip.
As Braddon and Gristav are preparing the food, footsteps are heard descending the stairs, and Tendal appears. "Ah," he says with approval as he surveys the activity in the kitchen, "supper. Excellent. Very good indeed. Knock at my door when it's ready."
A bow of the head gives affirmation to Magnimar as he departs before Phillip takes stock of the improved chips. An approving nod is elicited "Aye, fairly done and as you say - easier to see them back in circulation than laid idle. I'll see they get to who they need to." holding out a hand to take ownership fo the same. He adds after an additional thought "Could always salt the pot with a couple of teasers as well - put a fleck of gold on a few to make the punters think they've a chance at betterment... then remove the seasoning through the night."
Another beat passes as he thinks before a postscript is left "Morning meeting as usual tomorrow? - any deliveries or other such through the day we should be wary of?"
"supper. Excellent. Very good indeed. Knock at my door when it's ready."
Braddon turns to Gristav as the dandy departs.
"Knock at my door? He's as bad as the harpy."Braddon starts concentrating and an unpleasant smile plays across his mouth.
"Maybe we should get the two of them together."
"Morning meeting as usual tomorrow? - any deliveries or other such through the day we should be wary of?"
"Wary ... aye." Saul's grin disappears. "I've been told some of the murder cultists in Rotgut may not have cashed in all of their chips. What are the odds, do you think, of any of them holding a grudge and trying to do something about it?"
"supper. Excellent. Very good indeed. Knock at my door when it's ready."Braddon turns to Gristav as the dandy departs.
"Knock at my door? He's as bad as the harpy."
Braddon starts concentrating and an unpleasant smile plays across his mouth.
"Maybe we should get the two of them together."
Snake looks curiously at Braddon, "Two who? The suit and... who?"
"The dandy and the harpy. Tendal of the Magnimars and Thuva whatsername."
Braddon looks about and grabs a spoon, a bowl and some meat.
"They spend all their time telling everyone what to do as if they ran the operation and not Saul and Larur. Manacle them together and throw 'em in the arena I say. Only bit of pleasure I'd get out of either of them."
Braddon uses the spoon to pummel and smash the meat in the bowl. He shows the carnage to Gristav while shrugging at Snake.
Standing at the toasting station, Gristav obviously had let his attention to the room lapse, until Braddon showed him the bowl. Nevertheless, it seemed Gris was able to recall and reply, after a nod to Braddon that he had the process right. "A bit finer; it's to be spread on toast", Gristav began.
"We could all be a bit finer. But some of us... seem to not think so. That might be Tendal, he does seem to think to be speaking from above. Thuvalia, let's be fair, she may still imagine herself, as much a prisoner as anything else, it could all be braveface, bravado, and bluster. Though I expect there's some genuine brass there, and I respect that. And her dancing cannot be faulted. Surely, not by me!", Gristav says, with a smile and a very Varisi shrug.
"Knock at my door when it's ready...?", Gristav questions. "That does seem less, 'sheltering in my room from them as killed my fellows', and rather more 'above such things', which, isn't necessarily dark of him. I too, once simply expected, someone would prepare my meals. No second thought to it. If I hadn't spent as much time doing for myself... well. I find them both forgivable."
"Not yet sure, what to do, for Thuvalia, but Tendal might be taught by more slack...", Gristav grinned. He'd just set another number of slices to toast, so he took a more open stance, and gestured, popping a sheet of parchment into his hand. No pen was seen, but words and ink scritched across the surface, louder as it was held in air, than if it had been on a desk.
Prodigal Pemmican Compote
on buttered toast rounds
Venison Steak of the Flank and Back
seared in herb and wine
Chilled Berries of the Season
washed in wine
served with sugared beaten cream
The magicked markings were dry at once, but Gristav shook a sanding motion before passing the parchment toward Snake. "Mister Kane, would you be so kind as to present our menu to the erstwhile nobles of our company?", Gristav asks with a smile.
Letting any sense of playfulness or raconteur fade from his face, Phillip's blood chills and his eyes grow hard and forceful. With deliberate intonation he states "Kreun is dead, and of the men he had there... only the cook and his cap are worth spending a thought on. The cook wasn't of the game and is in the wind, and I stoved in the chest of his cap as he lay unconscious on the floor. The rest of his men were chattel... and with both Kreun and his cap put in the boneyard, they aren't going to be seeking revenge of their own volition."
"The murder priest's Sczarni backers are worth watching for... but I'd place a safe bet that they won't be troubling us the morrow." considering the unspoken fact that Marzo would be crossing more than just Saul if he did come to Riddleport. The thought of Serpe's origin flashes across Phillip's mind, but he leaves it unspoken.
Snake takes a look at the list before turning his eyes back upon Gristav. "Why? They way I see it, they'll eat what's been served or they'll eat nothing. What's the point of this list?"
"Kreun is dead, and of the men he had there... only the cook and his cap are worth spending a thought on. The cook wasn't of the game and is in the wind, and I stoved in the chest of his cap as he lay unconscious on the floor. The rest of his men were chattel... and with both Kreun and his cap put in the boneyard, they aren't going to be seeking revenge of their own volition."
"The murder priest's Sczarni backers are worth watching for... but I'd place a safe bet that they won't be troubling us the morrow."
Saul gazes piercingly at Phillip for a moment, then slowly nods. "Hope you're right. Still, to play it safe, I want a close eye kept on the kitchen tomorrow as the food is prepared. The last thing we need, after a robbery on opening night, is a mass poisoning on our second stint." He pauses before continuing gingerly. "Larur's not been seen all day. His friend's worried. Tendal wasn't, until he heard there may be children of Father Skinsaw with a grudge against us."
Snake takes a look at the list before turning his eyes back upon Gristav. "Why? They way I see it, they'll eat what's been served or they'll eat nothing. What's the point of this list?"
"What's the point of any of this?", Gristav asks, gesturing at the toast, the three men present, the room and house. "To do it well."
"If they think of us as servants, let's be good servants. If partners, then partners teasing at being servants. And if they've not thought of it all... Well, that might get them started."
"Put it in the fire, if you like, or set it down and watch it disappear in an hour."
"But do it, whatever, with panache", Gris concludes with a grin.
Blood still cold and voice like iron, Phillip holds his gaze upon Saul "And I'd ask you why you're taking the word of a mark over that of a grifter when it comes to the Sczarni. I've told you direct that I don't think they're an issue... but if you want to play it safe, then sitting on our hands won't get you there. Ask me to deal with it... I'll take Braddon with me into Rotgut tonight, we'll find the rest of the bastards and open their throats." putting the assertive approach in front of Saul to ponder and raising an eyebrow of challenge.
"As to the dwarf... he's your partner, you tell me if there's any need for concern." recalling the matter that Saul pointedly told him to not get involved with this morning.
"What's the point of any of this?", Gristav asks, gesturing at the toast, the three men present, the room and house. "To do it well."
"If they think of us as servants, let's be good servants. If partners, then partners teasing at being servants. And if they've not thought of it all... Well, that might get them started."
"Put it in the fire, if you like, or set it down and watch it disappear in an hour."
"But do it, whatever, with panache", Gris concludes with a grin.
"I thought the point of this was to just eat. And I'm no servant. And I could also care less whether or not I'm a partner. I'm just here...," he pauses a moment pondering that train of thought before continuing, "When's dinner going to be ready? I'll let the suit know about dinner. I'm gonna be headin' toward my room anyway." He puts the list down, not giving it another thought.
The three men in the kitchen are startled by a sudden knock at the back door: firm and insistent without being aggressively threatening.
"How sullen and dour might you be, while you answer the door?", Gristav asks of Snake, one wary eye on the rounds of bread toasting in the pan.
Impatient for what passed for pout on the stoneface stoic, Gristav begins lifting out the rounds, raising his voice to shout, ""
Braddon eagerly sets aside the bowl and spoon and heads for the door.
He swings it wide open and takes a step back.
"And I'd ask you why you're taking the word of a mark over that of a grifter when it comes to the Sczarni. I've told you direct that I don't think they're an issue... but if you want to play it safe, then sitting on our hands won't get you there. Ask me to deal with it... I'll take Braddon with me into Rotgut tonight, we'll find the rest of the bastards and open their throats." putting the assertive approach in front of Saul to ponder and raising an eyebrow of challenge.
"Because I'm not a grifter, lad," Saul replies soberly. "I'm a businessman. If the Gold Goblin goes under... I'm too old to pick up and start over again in Magnimar or Turtleback Ferry. This is my last play. Makes me conservative ... dwarf-like." He grimaces. "You're probably right, but I can't afford for you to be wrong."
"As to the dwarf... he's your partner, you tell me if there's any need for concern."
"He's been missing since last night ... very undwarflike. And now I've been informed that there are Skinsaw cultists in the wind...," he trails off and frowns. "You say there's Sczarni behind the false mission? Should we take a closer look into the background of these musicians that have fallen into our lap?"
Pressing on the point and grating on Phillip pushes "So again you're taking the word of a man who until the dagger was bared was convinced the murder-priest was a charity giving Sarenrite. Why in the name of arraio are you paying me if you're ignoring every word I say. Stop being a jainko bazterrerat utzi victim and take control of the situation." voice not being raised, but is caustic enough to make a biting point.
jainko bazterrerat utzi - god forsaken
Knowing from the reaction of Saul that the truth of the situation had not been fully explained to him, Phillip calmly lays out the points "Kreun was endorsed by the Sczarni of Roderic's Cove to set up a flophouse and sell flayleaf to the human waste that lives in Rotgut. He brought with him a cook and some muscle. The only one of those that wore black robes was Kreun himself, the rest were common thugs... the only one of worth is also dead. The cook is in the wind - back to Roderic's Cove no doubt. Nothing I saw in the mockery of a church they set up makes me lose sleep that the ones left behind will be of any concern. The only risk is the leadership in Roderic's Cove taking an interest and risking the wrath of the management by riding into Riddleport unwelcomed." pausing for a few moments before adding "But..."
"Sitting on your arse and biting your nails won't give you any certainty... if you want that you'll need to bloody someones hands to get it. So, either you trust my words - or let my hands and blade speak for me in the darkness." laying down a very deliberate line in the sand for the one handed man. Given previous events where Saul had summarily discarded Phillip's opinion the halfling needed to make it plain that he wasn't here to be a passenger... and that he wasn't about to stick around if what he said wasn't being listened to.
Taking initiative with the rest of the inquiry "Let Gristav see to Larur, I'll talk to your musicians tomorrow as they're setting up."
Saul stares at Phil for a long moment, then slowly nods. "You listen to your gut," he says, "and I'll listen to mine. Just let me know if you see anyone you recognize from Rotgut."
Downstairs, Braddon opens the door to find a halfling on the tiny porch next to the woodpile. "Evening," he nods, clearly in a hurry to get past the social niceties. "Is Phil Hargreaves here? Or Ethel Braum?"
"Show the gentleman in, Mister Hart.", Gristav votes.
"Mister Kane, would you see if Mister Hargreaves is receiving before dinner?"
"I am Gristav, sir. Who might we say, is calling?" Gristav takes up an overlong knife, checks the edge, then blunts any threat by slicing searable slabs from the volume of venison. "And might you join us for dinner? Venison, berries, wine, cream, butter, and herbs, in various combinations." Gristav smiles gently.
Phillip holds level gaze for a few seconds before dipping his head by way of slight nod while maintaining eye contact. "That will be done... gentlemen" touching eyes with both Saul and Bojasc before holding up the bag of chits, turning around and departing the room. His footsteps lead him downstairs and towards Magnimar's abode.
Snake holds up a hand to Gristav indicating to hold a moment as he moves over next to Braddon, his eyes narrowed at the halfling. "I know you; you're the bub that works over at the Publican House. What's so important that you need to see Raccoon or his girlfriend in such a hurry?"
"I am Gristav, sir. Who might we say, is calling?" Gristav takes up an overlong knife, checks the edge, then blunts any threat by slicing searable slabs from the volume of venison. "And might you join us for dinner? Venison, berries, wine, cream, butter, and herbs, in various combinations."
"I know you; you're the bub that works over at the Publican House. What's so important that you need to see Raccoon or his girlfriend in such a hurry?"
The Small man steps into the back corridor. "No time for dinner, thanks. My business is pressing. If you'll tell Phil that Marce needs to speak with him on an urgent matter?" He nods a greeting to Snake, polite but reticent.
Snake stares at him a moment before eventually nodding. "I'll go check his room. Be right back." Snake take his leave of the kitchen and makes his way to Phillip's room. As he makes it to the door, he knocks. "Raccoon? You in there? You got company in the kitchen," he says through the closed door, awaiting a response.
"Phillip might still be around. He was here an hour ago."
Braddon looks to Marce.
"Where have I seen you before? If we were enemies I would have remembered. Want a drink? The bar's just through here."
Braddon heads out of the kitchen towards the bar.
"Don't worry. We killed the giant spiders that were here."
"Marce is here, looking for you. Kane went to your room, and Braddon took Marce toward the bar, reassuring him about the spiders." In punctuation of the end of the report, Gristav sets the first of the venison steaks to sizzle. "Dinner shortly."
"Where have I seen you before? If we were enemies I would have remembered. Want a drink? The bar's just through here."
"No time, thanks," the halfling repeats politely. Rather than follow Braddon toward the bar, he cranes his neck anxiously after Snake as he disappears into the residential wing.
Snake take his leave of the kitchen and makes his way to Phillip's room. As he makes it to the door, he knocks. "Raccoon? You in there? You got company in the kitchen," he says through the closed door, awaiting a response.
There is a soft rustle of movement from the other side of the door, then a female voice calling warily, "Who's that? What do you want?"
-------------------------------
Phillip takes his leave of Saul in his office upstairs and heads back down the staircase. As he descends, he can hear the rattle of activity and smell food being prepared. He walks through the small break room and into the kitchen on his way back to the guest wing to find Gristav cooking and Marce standing in the doorway.
Seeing Marce present diverts Phillip from seeking Magnimar initially, and forestalls any immediate reply to Gristav. He calls out to his fellow halfling with slight lines of worry upon his face "Marce... what brings you here?" sensing a tenseness upon him and allowing him the space to disgorge any words he might spend.
There is a soft rustle of movement from the other side of the door, then a female voice calling warily, "Who's that? What do you want?"
Snake is slightly taken aback by the voice within before responding. "Name's Snake. I'm guessing you're his lady? That halfling woman who works at that old run down dress shop? You wouldn't happen to be Ethel would you?"
"Name's Snake. I'm guessing you're his lady? That halfling woman who works at that old run down dress shop? You wouldn't happen to be Ethel would you?"
There's a pause and then, "What do you want?" the voice repeats steelily.
"Marce... what brings you here?"
Marce swivels around to face Phil, his expression evincing a moment of relief before settling into a concerned frown. "Phil," he greets him. "Is there somewhere we can have a word?" The in private is clearly implied.
Leading with his hand he indicates "My room, assuming it's something Ethel can hear as well?" matching Marce's businesslike disposition and delaying any mention of Magnimar's mountain of gold for the moment.
"Ethel's here then?" he asks, following Phillip but not offering any further information. They round the corner into the marble foyer to find Snake standing outside Phillip's door.
Nodding an affirmation to Marce before moving up nearer to the larger man by his door Phillip offers a curt greeting "Serpe... don't go too far, I'll have something for you and the others shortly." before moving closer the door to speak through it "Miss Braum... might Marce and I have an audience?" speaking somewhat formally to ensure that his paramour would be both decent and ready to receive visitors within.
Braddon shrugs and helps himself to a drink from the bar anyway, before returning to find Gristav in the kitchen.
Nodding an affirmation to Marce before moving up nearer to the larger man by his door Phillip offers a curt greeting "Serpe... don't go too far, I'll have something for you and the others shortly."
Snake nods and takes his leave, heading back to the kitchen and finding himself a place to sit. As he takes a seat, "Any word on the dwarf?"
"Miss Braum... might Marce and I have an audience?"
Ethel can immediately be heard fumbling with the latch, and the door opens just a crack, through which she peers out nervously before pushing it wider for the two halflings to enter. She blushes a little as Marce enters the room she shares with Phillip, but Marce seems undisturbed. He closes the door behind him, giving the three some privacy.
