Alarmed at the state of the kitchen, the men move toward the double doors onto the casino floor and thence to the vault or residence wing beyond. Braddon is just about to push them open when the party hears heavy footsteps stumping unevenly down the stairs from the second story.
The party slips down the alley behind the Goblin with extreme caution and quietly unlocks the kitchen door. The interior is dark and quiet. The kitchen is a mess, uncleaned dishes and utensils left spread over the tables, along with several empty bottles. A few days' worth of baskets from the bakery sit among the detritus, partially picked through but mostly going stale.
Maths were Gristav's first friend. Reliable, often simple. often deceptively so, with depth to them, if you looked for it. Like Gristav's best friend. Who, his first friend now reasoned to him, would not be found here. Because Larur, would not have let days of dutiless derelict detritus, endure.
Settling into that darkness, Gristav did not think of light, beyond the firefly mote of his long habituation.
Alarmed at the state of the kitchen, the men move toward the double doors onto the casino floor and thence to the vault or residence wing beyond. Braddon is just about to push them open when the party hears heavy footsteps stumping unevenly down the stairs from the second story.
Larur?, Hope hurried in Gristav's mind, before morose Math reminded, and Memory offered, Covey? But Gristav made no noise, as he was unsure. And unmoving, for he was sure, that others could deploy with far greater grace than he...
Snake moves the lights in the opposite direction of the stairs, where only the smallest of light can be seen.
Braddon flattens himself against the wall, lowering his blades and his centre of gravity. He stares into the gloom at the approaching footsteps, ready to pounce should they belong to an enemy.
A light approaches along with the footsteps. As they reach the foot of the stairs, the footsteps stumble, and there is a thud as someone leans heavily against the opposite wall to steady himself. When the footfalls begin again, the light visible through the doorway to the staff break room recedes along with the footprints; whoever came down the stairs is heading toward the narrow corridor between the bar and the back door, not into the kitchen. He seems to be making no attempt at stealth.
Math mocked. However stumpish Larur might be, he had rare use for a lantern. So this was not him. Math mocked, and Gristav moped. And rounded the corner, clever, he thought, in timing his motion to the stumpish stagger...
Bringing the lights back to bear, Snake tires of the cat and mouse and moves to catch the struggling figure.
If he manages to do so, "Having a little trouble, bub?"
Startled, the figure turns around, swerving a little and steadying himself against the wall. It is Bojasc. His hand goes unsteadily to the axe hanging at his belt before he recognizes his interlocutor "Desna bular!" he exclaims. "You looking to end up dead sneaking up behind me in the dark? You're lucky not to have an axe blade between your eyes."
He appears to be quite drunk.
Phillip stiffens then eases as the man's shown to be Bojasc. Trusting in the taller's lack of care, he walks with confidence past him... though does keep eyes upon... still bearing towards his quarters and any sign or message that might've been left.
'Shameful. Drunk, when you're the only defense of- Unless, you weren't fearing attack...' Gristav thought. Math spun her wheels, and clicked, and whispered in her certainty. Gristav, never wise, would be some hours before he would reflect on the moment he decided to - no, not decided, just... - on the moment he struck.
Rage and pain and worry - and magic - coiled and crested and cracked like a whip, flowed on fae fibre and wyrded wood...
"Where is his body?", the half-elf's voice hissed, he hoped, ringing past the bell he'd struck.
Gristav charges around the corner in a violent fury to confront his fellow employee.
Startled, the figure turns around, swerving a little and steadying himself against the wall. It is Bojasc. His hand goes unsteadily to the axe hanging at his belt before he recognizes his interlocutor "Desna bular!" he exclaims. "You looking to end up dead sneaking up behind me in the dark? You're lucky not to have an axe blade between your eyes."
He appears to be quite drunk.
"Not interested in an axe in my skull, bub. Just wondering what happened here is all."
Taken aback as Gristav moves up and lays some form of blame upon the drunkard, "What in the Nine Hells is your problem, Gristav?! For someone who wants to 'talk' everyone into being your friend, all of the sudden you're gonna walk up and accuse this bub for killing someone? I'm curious as to who he supposedly killed and what makes you so sure it was him?" he asks, wondering if he actually has some form of real evidence. "Because I ain't fighting this guy just because you think he killed someone. You're own your own."
"Wait, what?" Tendal says, confused by Gristav's utterly unexpected charge and attack on Bojasc.
Then illumination dawns, and his eyes narrow as he takes in the bodyguard's appearance, and the lack of evidence about the body he should be protecting.
"Gristav, while I admire your forthrightness in both asking and answering your own questions, it might behove us to follow friend Snake's suggestion and actually talk to the man before cracking his skull open." Tendal says, gesturing towards the drunkard and then laying a calming hand on Gristav's shoulder.
Braddon remains still, though his eyes glimmer at the possibility of violence.
Braddon changes his mind and darts across the room, but doesn't follow the others. Instead he heads the other way around the stairs.
The fluttering thing flapped at Gristav's shoulder, spindly legs holding fast as the halfelf rushed forward, and the taller human came up behind...
... "You're own your own."
"If only, there were a window."
...and another called calmingly from further afield.
The butterfly settled, and waited, not even sure of the moment, only of the desire to help.
Surprised by the sudden accusation, Tendal moves quickly into the corridor, attempting to persuade Gristav to take a more diplomatic approach to the situation.
Bojasc draws his two axes to defend himself as Gristav comes bounding toward him, brandishing his staff. "Zer arraio, gizona?!" he growls. "Zein da zure matxura handiak?" Despite his inebriated condition, he is clearly ready to defend himself against anyone seeking to injure him.
Hearing voices echo, Phillip takes pause...
Snake looks to Gristav, "Bai, Gristav, hori da galdera ona da. Ezin itxaron zure erantzuna entzuteko inork honentzat." He then sheathes his weapon and folds his arms before leaning against the wall.
"Shall I explain? Will you listen? Dice I must roll... Larur's not back. He's still missing, and how would I know, when I've been with you? Because of the disarray; his house is tidier than this. So he's not back. And here, with half the partnership missing, taken, gone, three days, the guard of the other half, staggers, drunk, toward the bar. He's not on guard, not in arms, no others laid on, not even lights lit. This is not a man, drunk and then careless, but a man, careless, and then drunk. A man unworried, for the safety of the remaining partner, because he knows the why and the how, of the loss of the first. That the only blood spilled, was by him."
"You'll ask me for patience. And I'll have to wonder, if Larur was alive, two days ago, when I granted it, then. If Larur's alive now. Take that burden with me, then, you fine fellows. Take this man, and question him, absent the guidance of Saul. Where have they searched, who have they asked, what have they discussed? Search him, and his possessions. Then, turn the same questions to Saul."
"If you're all Saul's creatures, imagine you're protecting him, from this man's treachery. Or if you are the Goblin's Guard, you might suspect Saul, as well. To whatever degree you're each your own man, you must make your choices, for yourselves. I, am here for Larur; I'll speak for him, and I'll strike for him. I'll stand before - I'll fall before - all of you, if I must."
"But I hope the blood we've spilled, and shared, has tattooed us all together."
"I love it when they argue... makes it so much easier."
Braddon sneaks up behind Bojasc, his weapons ready should the drunken warrior try to escape.
Hearing the lecturing tone of Gristav begin, Phillip keeps to his intended path towards his quarters. The half-elven may have grievance implied, real, or potential towards the Varisi... but with the others of the party beside him Bojasc would be given pause enough...
Bolbo flits and flutters, landing on Gristav's left, lightening and heartening, but hardening the halfelf.
"So, downstairs, Bo?", Gristav declares, a statement in form of a question, his staff inverting in a single hand's grip, evidently unready, a staff, in a single hand...
"Shall I explain? Will you listen? Dice I must roll... Larur's not back. He's still missing, and how would I know, when I've been with you? Because of the disarray; his house is tidier than this....."
"Gods, are you still on about that?" Bojasc interrupts with a growl. "We've got bigger problems that that. Saul's gone."
Abandoning stealth Braddon steps round the corner and comments, "So you went straight for the booze, hey? How do you know he's not coming back?"
"I don't know," Bojasc shrugs, turning in the corridor with one axe toward Braddon and the other toward Gristav, "but he's not come back yet. Wouldn't be the first time he tried to skip town, would it?"
Bolbo flaps slowly, unperturbed, observing from the half-elf's shoulder.
As the hairs on the back of his head stand up at Bojasc's news, "How long has he been gone? And is anyone else missing?"
As the hairs on the back of his head stand up at Bojasc's news, "How long has he been gone? And is anyone else missing?"
"Are you in earnest, sir?", Gristav asks, turning toward Snake. Sparing a shocked glance for Tendal, Gris turns back toward Bojasc, and growls. "Put the axes away. I don't doubt you capable of ending Larur, but don't doubt me capable of ending you. And, Braddon is on my side, and, on the other side of you. You can either start a winning conversation", Gris mock-cheered, then returned to the growl, "Or a losing fight."
"I'm trying to figure out what in the Nine Hells is going on here, bub. And Braddon may be on your side but I'm not. You pick a fight, half of us will probably be dead. And figuring Braddon won't be one of them, that probably means me and you. If you're willing to live with that, then by all means; otherwise, shut up." Turning back to Bojasc, "Still curious as to what's been going on here, bub. If he says anything," he motions to Gristav, "just pay him no mind. I do understand that it's difficult though."
Bojasc ignores Snake to reply to Gristav's demands. "I didn't draw first," he reminds the half-elf with a sneer. "You started this. Drop your own stick."
Snake: 'just ignore Gristav'
"I'll make it easier.", Gristav says, taking up the lamp Bojasc had dropped, intending to move South along the corridor, past Snake then Tendal.
Bojasc: 'Drop your stick first'
"Unwise. I only suspect you, the staff hates you, just now. If I let it go, it might chase you about the place, like a witch's broom. I'll leave you, to debate blade protocol with Braddon, and talk with the very eager Snake. And after they've made you wait three days to take you seriously, see if you don't want to hit someone."
Leaving the front line, Gristav heads upstairs. "Nearest window is in the kitchen.", he adds as an afterthought to Snake, on his way upstairs.
Braddon sighs and sheathes his blades, before leaning back against the wall, still blocking Bojasc's access to the bar.
"How long have you been drunk? Or, you know, how long has Saul been missing?"
Bojasc spins his axe expertly as he re-sheathes it with a grin. "Uh, today's...." He counts on his fingers a moment, then gives it up. "It was the day you left ... or the day after. He came in all shifty; said to get everyone out of the Goblin, he had business to take care of."
"Get everyone out? So you're telling us you're the only one left?"
"He asked everyone to leave? As if he was meeting someone and wanted none to be here for the meeting?"
"Its not as if people on the street wouldn't notice comings and goings from the Goblin, especially after everyone had been asked to leave."
"And now, as Mr. Hurst has pointed out, we have two missing individuals. Either by outside influence or by their own power, who have vanished under mysterious circumstances. We should see what we can uncover in the office, and then check the passages that we know about for recent use."
"Get everyone out? So you're telling us you're the only one left?"
"He asked everyone to leave? As if he was meeting someone and wanted none to be here for the meeting?"
Bojasc's nod to Snake turns into a shake of the head by the end of Tendal's second question. "Not here. He left."
Phillip carefully crosses the dark casino floor, trusting to memory and a cautious pace to navigate the chairs and tables; fortunately, there is sparse furniture on the floor to make room for Sunday-night crowds to circulate. He feels, rather than sees, the change in flooring as the carpet gives way to the marble floor in the atrium at the entrance to the residential wing. Here, under the lower ceiling, the darkness is almost complete, but now it is a mere matter of following the left-hand wall until he locates his door by touch. Inserting the key blindly is slightly more awkward than with light, but he manages it and quickly locates and lights the lamp inside the room.
--------------------------------
Gristav climbs the stairs by the light of his conjured firefly and emerges into a hallway only barely illuminated by a whisper of streetlamp from the window facing over the guest wing's roof. It is enough, however, to light his footsteps to the owner's suite where he finds a mundane lamp and lights it.
"He had you get everyone out? Then he got out too? Leaving just you?"
Braddon looks towards the vault.
"So, what have you been doing? Apart from drinking?"
Looking to Braddon with a raised eyebrow, "Why do we care what he's been doing? Unless he's killed everyone, I don't really care," he says plainly, shrugging. Unconcerned with the drunkard's response to Braddon's question, Snake heads to his room to see if it's been tampered with, his lights in front of him.
Phil purses his eyes as light floods in... then reviews the interior of his room for disturbance or message.
"So, what have you been doing? Apart from drinking?"
Bojasc shrugs. "Waiting for the boss to come back."
Gristav looks about for anything seeming out of place. Hampered by a lack of familiarity with the owner's suite, he doesn't expect any grand revelation. But one must try. Gris does a workmanlike review, conferring amiably with his fluttering lepidopteran.
It's not long before he settles for gathering any ledgers or texts at hand, and taking them to Tendal for review. "A greater understanding can't harm our efforts, and you seem to be our optimal reviewer of a written overview..."
Gristav then asks Bojasc, "Before Saul ordered everyone out, had he had a visitor just before? Had he just returned from some errand? What was he doing, just before the order?"
"When everyone had left, did Saul leave immediately, or remain here a time? What rooms was he in, just before leaving?"
"Did Saul tell you to remain here, or only not tell you to leave with the others?"
"And that was how long ago?"
Gristav finds the sitting room in better shape than the kitchen downstairs: it is a bit dusty and untidy but apart from that looks little different from when he was last here before departing for Roderic's Cove.
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Taking his magical lights and leaving the others with Bojasc's lamp, Snake leaves the kitchen area and heads across the casino floor toward the residential wing. He can see that the casino looks much as it did the last time he saw it, after Varisian caravan night. The decorations are only half-taken-down, and the room has the melancholy air of an interrupted party. There have clearly been no preparations made for this week's opening.
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Phil finds his room neat and tidy but Ethel's belongings removed. It seems almost as if she were never there, but when Phil begins to delve a little deeper, a scrap of a note falls from beneath the pillow:
Phil,
That horrible man is tossing me out. Maddy is going to be unbearable. You'd better fix this.
Gristav finds the sitting room in better shape than the kitchen downstairs: it is a bit dusty and untidy but apart from that looks little different from when he was last here before departing for Roderic's Cove.
Gaining the light, Gristav expanded his senses even further, with a momentary remembering of a recurring magic, reaching into the space near him, like a voice seeking an echo. The dining room was first to be scanned, with Gristav's several senses and sensibilities, and Bolbo's beside, which seemed, to Gristav, superior.