"... but if Ziphras did want to send a message - do you know the how he'd see it done?"
Saul frowns. "Well, they'd turn up dead ... or Ziphras would turn them, get them working for him ... or.... There's stories of folks disappearing in the Boneyard, never being seen again. Rumor has it it's haunted by the ghost of a dead sailor, but I say it's Ziphras behind it. He's not a Boss, understand. He couldn't do it to anyone with connections; it'd bring down hell on him. Even Cleg could probably wipe out his organization if he put his mind to it and was willing to expend the men. But strangers, travelers, drunks and vagrants in Rotgut...." He shakes his head. "You pay the rat-piper his pittance when he comes collecting and stay the Nine Hells out of his business otherwise and be glad of it."
"What's today's schedule like boss? Stay out of the way of the Harpy or stand around and guard stuff?"
Glad for the change of subject, Saul turns to Braddon avuncularly. "I'd like a sharp eye kept on the kitchens and the bar. With disciples of Blackfingers in play, I don't want any poison smuggled in." He glances toward the door by which Gristav exited kitchenward. "Larur's absence needs investigating," he admits somewhat reluctantly, "but we can't let it distract us from the opening this evening. It's his financial well-being as well as mine relying on us turning a profit. If someone's trying to use him to derail us, we'll undoubtedly get some kind of ransom note before sunset. If we don't ... well, we'll have a week to find him after tonight that won't lead to us closing our doors."
Snake finally manages to get himself something to eat after having taken care of Thuvalia's breakfast. He nods at the arriving halfling as his thoughts turn to the mentioned food from Gristav. Venison bacon? Crap. There's more work. It's either that or simply never hear the end of it. Hm. Sounds like more work wins again.
As the conversation between Phillip and the fat man carries on, Ziphras huh? Never heard of him. He sounds about as fantastic as Beltias. It's a wonder this town hasn't eliminated itself. Snake takes a drink of his coffee, his thoughts keeping him rather occupied.
Not very shortly, Gristav returns, with a plate of parchmented venison. "This approximates fried shaved cured pork belly, but, it hasn't been brined. Or fried. Just magicked. But it's just the way I like it. For the next hour. Then, it's leftovers. Turns back into pumpkin." Far too amused at the reference, Gristav chuckles as he sets the plate where all can reach it, then takes a strip for himself.
Nodding at Saul's response to Braddon, Phillip drives "Security still coming from Croat's quarters? I've reason to speak with a couple of his lads and can pass any message you need to while I'm there? Outside of that I'll be dockwards for a short time this morn as well... though I'm fairly sure I'll be at the Goblin from early afternoon through to keep that weather eye."
"As to Larur, his man's on the case" raising a chin towards the recently returned Gristav.
"'Struth", Gristav agrees. "Any particular guidance, from any of the assembled?", he asks, adding to Saul, "You spoke of an alchemist."
Snake grabs a couple of pieces of bacon and puts them on a plate, taking his leave and heading to Thuvalia's room. As he arrives, he knocks on the door and leaves the plate at the base of it before making his way back to the dining room.
Nodding at Saul's response to Braddon, Phillip drives "Security still coming from Croat's quarters?"
"Aye," Saul replies. "With you lot on the payroll, we'd considered we might have enough security without them. Larur wanted to avoid the additional expense. But I thought it was worth having Croat's men at the door anyway; implies that we're not entirely without connections. Finally convinced him, though you know what it's like to part a dwarf from his money."
"You spoke of an alchemist."
"I know no more about it," Saul warns, "than that there's a dwarf alchemist in Rotgut. I've no indication Larur's ever met him ... but if he were to have gone there, it's a bad neighborhood at the best of times, and with cultists in the district stirred up against us...." He shrugs apologetically. "Better to hope we get a ransom note."
"I hope you can respect...", Gristav says levelly, "...that I have to keep my eyes on the prize, and put my feet on the street. Even that street."
Gristav meets any offered eye, but settles on Saul. "I'd be no friend at all, if I didn't try."
"And, yesterday's redoubling of my magical means, has in fact continued. I'm considering taking that as an omen."
As an aside Phillip directs towards Gristav "Let me know if you need an address on the dwarven poison merchant." without any hint of offer that he might choose to accompany.
Taking Saul's lack of mention of message as meaning he didn't have one, and that his stated plans hadn't been countermanded as approval Phil leans back into his chair and takes a slug of coffee. His free hand smooths out his hair as he ruminates on what else is worthy of morning discussion. He queries Saul "Any outstanding deliveries? - if not, then when does the talent start getting here for prep work?"
"After lunch," Saul replies. "That way we only have to supply one meal. Larur's idea." He grins without any real humor. "Covey and the kitchen staff should be arriving around then, too. I'll have a word with Covey about keeping a weather eye out for tampering with the liquor, but there's like to be people in and out of the kitchen all afternoon; we'll want to have someone watching there." He glances around the table. "What happened with the elf-boy who wouldn't grow up? You get his problem taken care of?"
With a glance to Braddon, Phil offers a steadying "Its in hand..." without embellishing upon it.
Braddon nods.
"Okay, so I'll help Gristav find Larur in Rotgut this morning and be back to guard the kitchens this afternoon."
"Fine," Saul replies, taking a last swig of coffee and pushing away from the table without finishing his breakfast. Bojasc gets up as well, grabbing an untouched roll off of Saul's plate and eating half of it in a bite. He gives Phil a malicious grin as he follows Saul to his office.
As Saul and Bojasc are passing through the sitting room, they meet Tendal coming up from downstairs. "Oh, good morning, sir," the mage nods a greeting as the owner and his bodyguard disappear into his office. "Am I that late?" he asks the rest of the assembly, a bit miffed, as he arrives in the dining room and searches through the baked goods for his morning repast. Supplying himself with coffee and some of Gristav's bacon, he sits down at the table.
"Fair warning, that's last night's venison, sliced, and fried, and parti-sorcelled into salted morsels. A trick of the trail."
"And I wouldn't say you're late."
"I got here before you," Braddon points out to Tendal. "You're late. Where've you been?"
Braddon takes a piece of the venison, looks at Gristav suspiciously, then takes a bite, before dropping the entire thing in his mouth with a grin.
"If goof."
"I got here before you," Braddon points out to Tendal. "You're late. Where've you been?"
"Studying," he answers a bit stiffly. "I wanted to be sure I was prepared, not knowing how busy we might end up being the rest of the day."
He delicately picks up his venison bacon between his fingertips and deposits it on Braddon's plate.
"Fair enough. If we're going back to Rotgut, I better get prepared too. Phil, you coming too to look into..." Braddon glances towards where Saul went, then continues, "...things?"
"And you?" Braddon adds to Snake.
Snake nods, "Yeah, I'll be going."
With a smile Phillip shakes his head slightly "I'll be seeing to things just at a different location. Close off last night's adventure, a little shopping and locking down of transportation for tomorrow... those sorts of things. Might even drop past the House for a bath." waving off any thought or need for accompanyment for his errands. "At any rate back to the Goblin before the afternoon... and whatever that and the night will bring."
To Magnimar he lowers his voice slightly now that Bojasc and Saul have partially withdrawn. With a surreptitious point he challenges Tendal "Do you have any idea what's eating him? - it's more than just the lack of a dwarf...."
Tendal frowns and gazes thoughtfully a moment at Saul's office door before answering in a low tone, "Master Taphodarian, the talent agent, raised a disturbing point a few days ago: that Lil Scarlet left Riddleport only after Orik Vankaskerkin's present location was disclosed. I brought his concerns to Mr. Vankaskerkin, and I must say I share them. If she has gone to Sandpoint to exact some sort of revenge...." He lets the sentence trail off unfinished. "I sent an express letter to my aunt the mayor to warn the local authorities to be on guard, but after tonight's opening, I intend to travel back down the coast myself, to make sure that nothing untoward is going on. If all is well, I can easily be back before next Sunday."
"We've no shortage of urgent rendesvous to make.", Gristav agrees. "But I might make the observation, her actions against Saul were planned, cautious, detailed. Which doesn't say she wouldn't flitter off toward Orik, only that she might wait and plot, as she had with Saul. And the scribe, at least, thought she'd gone to the Cove."
"No," Tendal corrects, "the scribe instructed her to go to Roderic's Cove, which implies that she would have had no intention of going there without having received his letter, which we still don't know that she has. As far as we know, she arranged with this Captain Treeg to be taken directly to Sandpoint last week. If she's been holding a grudge against Orik since Falk Zincher's death, she's had plenty of time to make plans, contingent only on her discovering his whereabouts. Let us not forget, she was a favored acolyte of the priestess of Calistria. That implies not merely a certain loose outlook on monogamy but also an acuity at vengeance." He looks to Phillip for validation.
Snake looks over at the well dressed man, "Instructed?" he says, a slight grin forming as he shakes his head. "This just keeps getting better, don't it?" he huffs, still shaking his head as he takes another drink of his coffee. We aren't ever gonna find this gal.
Braddon nods to Snake and gets up to leave.
As he passes Phillip he mentions, "Oh, if you do need anything at the House, ask for Anya by name. She's trying to make a good impression to replace Ros... Ruz... Shorafa's latest favourite. And, you know, she's pretty nice. Not as nice as... but a bit ambitious. Businesslike even. You'd probably like her. Not as clever as... But yeah. She's nice."
Braddon blushes slightly, turns his head for the door, and exits to get his gear.
Phil gives a knowing shrug of affirmation to Tendal's depiction of Calistrites as avenging, and doesn't engage in the worth or lack of worth of following off on the lead. Instead he offers a nod "Fair enough... do endeavor to come back though" with a wink "You've proven quite useful over the last couple of days."
He gives a chuckle at Braddon's thoughts heading towards the service aspect of the bath rather than the functional, but doesn't provoke the slight blushing by diving any deeper.
His last comment is kept for Snake as they exit "No promises... but I'll see if Ethel's up to keeping the harpy off your back this afternoon. Would do her good to keep busy."
His last comment is kept for Snake as they exit "No promises... but I'll see if Ethel's up to keeping the harpy off your back this afternoon. Would do her good to keep busy."
"I'll talk to Thuvalia and let her know I'm gonna be out for a few hours. Hopefully she can find a way to survive on her own for that long but I'm a bit skeptical. But, just in case, if Ethel is willing, that would sure make her a bit less demonic when I return. Let me know." He nods in thanks at the offer as he heads to his room to gather his things.
Phillip gives a nod and slight wave before moving back to his own quarters to check in with Ethel and see if his lady is ready to move out.
Gristav displays a complete lack of self-restraint in his use of magic to clear and clean the breakfast table and restore the various vessels to shiny serviceability.
He can thereafter be found in the kitchen.
Braddon soon arrives in the kitchen, looking for another place to put his last dagger. His bastard sword hangs from one hip, his magic short sword hangs from the other hip and daggers festoon his belt. His crossbow hangs from his bulging backpack and appears to be loaded.
"Can't be too careful," Braddon grins.
Snake collects his gear from his room without incident.
Once Snake gathers his gear, he heads over to Thuvalia's room and knocks lightly on her door. "Thuvalia it's me. Snake."
Braddon soon arrives in the kitchen, looking for another place to put his last dagger. His bastard sword hangs from one hip, his magic short sword hangs from the other hip and daggers festoon his belt. His crossbow hangs from his bulging backpack and appears to be loaded.
"Can't be too careful," Braddon grins.
"I'm not strong enough to be as careful as all that", Gristav confessed. "Still, could be said I'm more well-prepared than you are. You're bringing all that; I'm bringing you." Gris chuckles comeradely.
"You and Snake took down your fair share the other day. I'll leave you some."
"Well, let it be fairly said, then: He brought much of our success with him, however little he held through to harvest. Perhaps he was sure of our success? I don't know what he knew. I'm not sure he knows, what he knows. I'm fairly sure, he doesn't know, what he knew. Except, perhaps, just then."
"Sorry, to be speaking in riddles. But I am speaking of riddles. A painting of a red thing, is painted in red."
Once Snake gathers his gear, he heads over to Thuvalia's room and knocks lightly on her door. "Thuvalia it's me. Snake."
"What do you want?" The voice through the door is both exasperated and suspicious.
Ethel suitably prepared, Phillip leaves his crossbow behind carrying only a pair of concealed blades into the street. He guides their footsteps in relative silence away and towards the Bazaar of the Seafaring Peddler.
Rolling his eyes, "For crying out loud... Will you just open the door? Wait, never mind, this'll do actually. Just thought I'd let you know, princess, that I'm gonna be out for a few hours and you're gonna have to fend for yourself." He waits only a moment or two for a response before heading back to the kitchen.
From behind the door, Thuvalia scoffs. "I shall endeavor to make it by without you," she replies witheringly. "When you return, be sure to gather the plates from in here and take them back to the kitchen. And tomorrow, make sure there is tea!"
As Ethel and Phillip depart their room, they see Snake remonstrating through the door with Thuvalia. Ethel gives the tall man a nervous glance. They pass through the kitchen, where Gristav and Braddon are waiting, to the back door, the alley, and finally the streets of Riddleport.
The morning sun is so bright and cheerful, sliding over the rim of the eastern ridge, that it's hard for Ethel to retain her anxiety. The streets are quiet, much like the first morning Phillip arrived in Riddleport a week ago. It's cheering to think how far he's come, and how much richer he has become, in only seven days. The pair stroll past the Mystery of the Gate, a placard outside the door advertising a lecture on Thassilonian history at lunchtime, toward ali-Haqim's small shop.
Shaking his head and grinning somewhat, "Sorry, darlin', but the bet is paid off after today," he mumbles to himself as he walks away and toward the kitchen. Can't wait to see that reaction.
Making his way back to the kitchen, he wastes no time with small talk. "What are you bubs sittin' around for? It's time to go. Oh, wait... Luck!" he calls out, the mongoose seemingly coming out of nowhere and scampering up the tall man and onto his shoulder. "Alright, now it's time to go."
While the presence of wealth either earned or lucked into his possession is comforting... Phillip is also chilled by the knowledge of how quickly that wealth can dissipate. He keeps his smalltalk exceedingly small as they make their way across to the shop, looking to breach the door as they arrive and make for the counter... with a few small glances around to see if there is any other custom present first.
As Phillip and Ethel approach the shop, Phil spies no other customers. In fact, as they reach the door beneath the brightly-painted placard, they find it locked. "Perhaps he's not open yet," Ethel suggests. "It is Sunday."
Remembering that many of the establishments he passed last Sunday after leaving the Publican had barely opened by noon, it seems likely that Riddleport businesses observe a lax standard of punctuality on their day of rest. Hassan almost certainly resides behind the storefront, however; it seems likely that a knock at the door would rouse him.
Muttering slightly to himself about the indolence of those that allow themselves a day of rest Phil regathers and sighs "Aye, that must be it... I'd seek to wake him but there are other matters that could fill a short time at least and give us most likely a kinder reception." pausing for a few moments to ensure he has his inamorata's attention before venturing "I'd like you to come with me to see the men who are investigating Betta's death."
Making his way back to the kitchen, he wastes no time with small talk. "What are you bubs sittin' around for? It's time to go. Oh, wait... Luck!" he calls out, the mongoose seemingly coming out of nowhere and scampering up the tall man and onto his shoulder. "Alright, now it's time to go."
"True, or past true. But where? To Rag End in warning? To Hassan, for a lead to a lead toward Larur? Or the Duck, and fold the gnome and hound into the recipe?"
"I thought we were looking for the dwarf. Lead on."
Muttering slightly to himself about the indolence of those that allow themselves a day of rest Phil regathers and sighs "Aye, that must be it... I'd seek to wake him but there are other matters that could fill a short time at least and give us most likely a kinder reception." pausing for a few moments to ensure he has his inamorata's attention before venturing "I'd like you to come with me to see the men who are investigating Betta's death."
"You mean Croat's men?" She toys with her bracelet nervously. "They won't be looking to arrest me, will they? Marce seemed to think they thought I was a suspect."
Phillip nods gravely "No... I don't think they'd try to arrest you... but I do need you to tell them what you told me, and it'd be more powerful coming directly from yourself. All you need to say is the truth about Betta's dealings with the Ratcatchers - cold, pure and unvarnished."
If there is any lingering doubt Phillip adds "We walk to them we're showing strength and a lack of guilt... the men I spoke with heard reason and acted with integrity... as much as one might get in this town at least."