Having settled with the carpeting crew, Larur wanders over to Gristav and Phil, frowning at the tension in the air between them. "Right, what have you dug your way into?" he asks the halfling heavily. "Is that lump the result of your getting your revenge on someone or something you're going to avenge yourself for in the future? And is whoever gave it to you likely to show up and cause trouble at the Goblin?"
Braddon listens carefully to Samaritha, nodding at her thoughts and information.
"Lil may be an arcanist. She'd certainly be able to get one. As for the Indigo Dreams, I wonder if any is missing from Shorafa's. We may want to talk with her again. Though a trip to Rotgut probably might be good too. Meet the locals." He grins.
When Braddon, Malkith, and Samaritha arrive at the ferry crossing, Samaritha reaches for her pouch to pay her fare. Before she can remove her coppers (or Braddon or Malkith can offer to pay her way), the ferry operator interrupts. "The lady's fare's been taken care of."
"What? I--" Samaritha begins and frowns. "Who paid it?"
"Not at liberty to say, love," he grins. "I just pole the boat."
"I wouldn't think it's trouble, Larur. He's refused my offer to avenge it. Although in a dutiful, not a worshipful way. But I shouldn't speak for him. You two discuss it; I've got to find some humble pie and crow..." Gristav and his quarterstaff make their way to the staff quarters.
---
A knock, gentle at the door. A moment's silence. Another knock, as gentle. And the half-elf's voice. "Thuvalia, please come to the taproom.", he asked. Unsure if she was even present, he waited only a moment, then returned to the bar.
"If Thuvalia still here? In her room?", Gristav asked Larur, with a gesture back at the statuary.
To Gristav - Pre-Larur:
Phillip holds his gaze for a span before allowing his guard to relax somewhat and nodding an assent of kind to Gristav's words "Fair words fairly spoken, I'll not drag a plough across the fresh-hewn soil. In the morning then, when your mind is fresher and perhaps replenished by striding across a burning span and emerging unsinged. At the heart of the cant is the ability to call a spade a spade, and yet have the listener's mind still consider it an implement of wonder... "
Pausing a moment to pat at his breast, where a bag sized lump makes a pleasant clinking sound "But you are wrong in one assertion... it has not been a bad day..." any further exposition interrupted by the arrival of yon dwarf earlier mentioned.
To Larur and Gristav - Pre Gristav's Departure:
Raising an eyebrow in exaggerated query before realising the reference to his head Phil smirks "Nothing of note... merely the result of an ill-chosen decision to attempt a new career." pausing a beat "Seems I didn't make it past the physical..." before Gristav makes his exit.
To Larur - Post Gristav's Departure:
Phil coughs a couple of times, shaking a tenacious rattle out of his lungs before rounding on Larur "The answers to your original questions good dwarf are I believe: Nothing, no and unlikely... if it matters, though I must take some umbrage for your assertion. Do you really think that the result of myself revenging upon someone would leave me bloody and dishevelled? - I had hoped that you thought either better or worse of me good Larur."
"The lady's fare's been taken care of."
Malkith looks sideways at Braddon and raises an eyebrow.
"Just as well, perhaps. I don't expect I am on her dance card. Though, I need to be. If I'm to be a Caravari, I ought to learn to dance, at least enough to be a setting for our jewels. Jewel. However many we have that can actually dance. Another fraction of dancer seems wise. Thuvalia is our resident expert. Or expert resident. But will she teach?"
"Thank you for coming. I'd like you to teach me to make whatever support of your dancing I might. You'll have to judge, if I'm able to be danced with, around, or away from...", Gristav smiled, "...for best effect. No one else is qualified to decide this, or to teach it. I'm not sure how good a student I'll make, but I will try. What say you? You're a dancer, the whole room knows it. Have you the makings of a choreographer? Shall we call you later, for dinner, or maestra, for now?"
Phil coughs a couple of times, shaking a tenacious rattle out of his lungs before rounding on Larur "The answers to your original questions good dwarf are I believe: Nothing, no and unlikely... if it matters, though I must take some umbrage for your assertion. Do you really think that the result of myself revenging upon someone would leave me bloody and dishevelled? - I had hoped that you thought either better or worse of me good Larur."
Larur grumbles. "All I know is, vengeance leads to vengeance, as the next fellow thinks he has to get even for the slight done him, and the whole thing turns a loose pebble into a rockslide. Wouldn't care to find the Goblin at the foot of the scarp when that happens."
"If Thuvalia still here? In her room?", Gristav asked Larur, with a gesture back at the statuary.
"Damned if I know, lad; I don't keep myself apprised of her movements," the dwarf responds. "Haven't seen her come out since she stalked off with half the blueberries."
"Damned if I know, lad; I don't keep myself apprised of her movements," the dwarf responds. "Haven't seen her come out since she stalked off with half the blueberries."
Gristav chuckled. "It was maybe a third.", he corrected. "And if it was, it was really a sixth." He watched Larur do the happy math, though he new better than to expect a smile.
The Varisian bard makes her indolent appearance, strolling out onto the main floor with a yawn. "Well? And what have I not done to your satisfaction now?"
"Thank you for coming. I'd like you to teach me to make whatever support of your dancing I might. You'll have to judge, if I'm able to be danced with, around, or away from...", Gristav smiled, "...for best effect. No one else is qualified to decide this, or to teach it. I'm not sure how good a student I'll make, but I will try. What say you? You're a dancer, the whole room knows it. Have you the makings of a choreographer? Shall we call you later, for dinner, or maestra, for now?"
She sizes Gristav up, walking around him as a man might a piece of horseflesh he contemplated buying, an amused smile on her face. "You are intending to be Varisi? Or the rube I am relieving of his excess coin? I suppose it depends on how apt a pupil you prove to be, eh?"
"What say you? You're a dancer, the whole room knows it. Have you the makings of a choreographer? Shall we call you later, for dinner, or maestra, for now?"
She sizes Gristav up, walking around him as a man might a piece of horseflesh he contemplated buying, an amused smile on her face. "You are intending to be Varisi? Or the rube I am relieving of his excess coin? I suppose it depends on how apt a pupil you prove to be, eh?"
"I'm proven, an apt pupil.", Gristav says with certainty. "In question, is my ability as a dancer. And yours, as a teacher. Shall we face that challenge together? And if the dancing fails us, or we it, let us work otherwise on whatever entertaining skit might fill some of the time of Caravan Night, or whatever name it is to have. Its success, can be yours, if you work toward it."
"How shall we begin? With a plan? A step? Shall I recount the Caravari dancers I have seen in my travels? Does anything I've seen before have bearing on what you might teach?"
"One does not dance with one's eyes," she scoffs. "You have seen a thousand people sing: Does any of that improve your voice? What you have seen is worthless! You can dance with your eyes closed, or in the dark. What can you feel, eh? Dancing is like fighting: You stop to think about what you are doing, and you are as good as dead. In dance, the woman is the weapon. The man ... well, he is either the mighty hero who masters the weapon, or he is the quarry. Let us see which role you are fit to play, hm?" She takes the staff from his hands and steps into his arms. "Toss down that stick, and wield me."
Gristav retains his grasp on his staff against Thuvalia's tug. "That is not always a safe thing to do.", he cautions softly, then releases the staff. "Carefully, now. Set it down softly, be sure a single finger leaves it last, then lift your hand."
"So.", he observes, extending his hand for her own. "You can follow directions." He pulls her towards him, but steps behind the path she was drawn on, ending behind her. Her one hand still held, her other now found, and brought before her. His arms were with hers, one extended, one around her, over and outside her own. He began a sort of turn, echoes of the Tackhammer Quartet guiding his steps "But what will this teach? That I can brute and buoy you about the floor? We knew that. That I'm willing to? I had said that. Or is it to prove that you can get me to do something useless, on your word? Because that would be foolish, as much a waste of time as pretending my staff would hurt someone it was handed to willingly."
Turning her to face him, at arm's length, he asks, "Can we agree each of us, the other is clever enough? And get to the task at hand? Because if we must struggle against each other, I will leave the game."
"You are worthy. As an opponent, or a prize. But I have no wish to win by making loss. I offer only to parry and thrust as friends."
Stepping a pace away, bowing as if at the pause of a pavilion's period, "You there, gypsy girl.", he postures smirking, wearing a leering mask. "Is Maestra Barabbio about?" The leer faded, and his smile warmed.
Samaritha's frown deepens at the ferryman's reply, but she doesn't pursue the subject. Stepping up onto the pier on the east side of the river, the trio easily make their way back toward the Gold Goblin. As they are turning south off the main road, they are hailed and look down the street to see Daynadrian approaching from the east. They wait as he jogs up to join them.
"The lady's fare's been taken care of."Malkith looks sideways at Braddon and raises an eyebrow.
"I'm not at liberty to say either." Braddon's usual grin takes a moment too long to appear.
Behind Samaritha's back he shrugs at Malkith.His smile returns when Daynadrian arrives.
"Hi. Whatchya been doing?"
Larur grumbles. "All I know is, vengeance leads to vengeance, as the next fellow thinks he has to get even for the slight done him, and the whole thing turns a loose pebble into a rockslide. Wouldn't care to find the Goblin at the foot of the scarp when that happens."
Smiling gamely "Half right my good dwarf... half right." not elucidating on which half "Anything else you've need for the eve? Or am I returned held to my own recognisance?"
Phil draws the dwarf's attention away from the nascent dance lesson. "Er, aye, suppose business has been taken care of for the day. We'll have to see about moving the furniture out of the halfling room, but that can wait until tomorrow. I'll be locking up at sunset; if you want your own key, I've got copies in my office."
Thuvalia folds her arms defiantly. "If you were to teach a man how to fight with a stick, would you sit in a chair and talk to him about how to hold it and which end to whack someone with and how to lay it down very delicately like a sleeping infant, or would you spar with him, so you could see his form and where he is going wrong and correct it? You cannot learn to dance without dancing."
His smile returns when Daynadrian arrives.
"Hi. Whatchya been doing?"
Samaritha blushes at the question and the possible answer, knowing where Dayn has been all morning.
The elf replies with a self-satisfied smile, "Making a new friend, one who's no friend of Lil Scarlet. Apparently, Shorafa's affection for Lil is one-sided; Lil's been operating basically on her own for more than a year."
Phil draws the dwarf's attention away from the nascent dance lesson. "Er, aye, suppose business has been taken care of for the day. We'll have to see about moving the furniture out of the halfling room, but that can wait until tomorrow. I'll be locking up at sunset; if you want your own key, I've got copies in my office."
Phillip nods "Lead on, I'll take the key now to save bothering you later... if we're quick you need not even miss a step of your protege."
Thuvalia folds her arms defiantly. "If you were to teach a man how to fight with a stick, would you sit in a chair and talk to him about how to hold it and which end to whack someone with and how to lay it down very delicately like a sleeping infant, or would you spar with him, so you could see his form and where he is going wrong and correct it? You cannot learn to dance without dancing."
"I'm glad the Maestra has joined us.", Gristav said sincerely. "Forgive my impudence. It is closest to the part of my mind that happiest hears a woman direct me to 'wield' her. But if I am directing you", he asked, again taking her in his arms, speaking into the absence of music in rhythm that might serve, "In grasp, and steps, and manner I know- well enough?- already, how do I come to steps I know not at all? Or in your terms, with only blades arrayed, how then, to learn the staff?"
The dwarf leads Phil across the casino floor to his cramped office. Opening a drawer in the desk, he draws out a key but hesitates before dropping it into the halfling's waiting palm. "I'm paying for two rooms of furniture when only one's going to be in the way of making me a profit," he reminds Phil. "Now, I don't begrudge a man the right to live in a place that fits him, but I'd like to know you're doing something other than tomcatting around town while you're drawing pay and requisitioning new furnishings. I trust you'll be looking out for the Goblin's interests as well as your own?" He delivers the key with a stern glance
"I'm glad the Maestra has joined us.", Gristav said sincerely. "Forgive my impudence. It is closest to the part of my mind that happiest hears a woman direct me to 'wield' her. But if I am directing you", he asked, again taking her in his arms, speaking into the absence of music in rhythm that might serve, "In grasp, and steps, and manner I know- well enough?- already, how do I come to steps I know not at all? Or in your terms, with only blades arrayed, how then, to learn the staff?"
"If you are contemplating buying a blade, will you not take it in hand to test its balance and its edge before you agree to the price? Right now we are merely seeing if there is any reason to teach you to do more than clap and stomp in place while I whirl around you. Now," she smiles up at him with challenge in her eyes, "impress me."
The elf replies with a self-satisfied smile, "Making a new friend, one who's no friend of Lil Scarlet. Apparently, Shorafa's affection for Lil is one-sided; Lil's been operating basically on her own for more than a year."
"Then she's not at the temple?" Samaritha asks as the four of them cross the courtyard of the Gold Goblin, heading for the front steps. "Did you find out where she is staying?"
Phillip doesn't yet retrieve the key, instead walking to the door and seeing it safely closed against aural oversight. Spinning on Larur he raises an eyebrow and challenges straight back at him "Actually you're paying for one room of furniture... since I talked your carpenter down enough to warrant my own furnishings for free. Less than two days I've been in Saul's employ... less than two." fire rising within his belly as his Sczarni upbringing lends venom to his words.
"You've got to make a choice Larur... Your heart is weaker than mine when it comes to what lurks in shadows, either you place trust and remain with a happily shrouded gaze... or you beg your way to stand beside me and have your hands stained with whatever taint and filth I choose to roll in." pausing for a moment before gesticulating with forceful intonation "But for fecks sake make that choice and grasp it... I'll not have you standing aside to snidely cast aspersions. So, eyes open or shut?"
"If you are contemplating buying a blade, will you not take it in hand to test its balance and its edge before you agree to the price? Right now we are merely seeing if there is any reason to teach you to do more than clap and stomp in place while I whirl around you. Now," she smiles up at him with challenge in her eyes, "impress me."
He'd tried, but he hadn't. He could tell. "So, that clapping and stomping...", he grinned. "How is that done?"
"And what else might serve? We shouldn't wait to be asked for... material from which to assemble that evening. What else, entertains, of a Caravari camp?"
"Then she's not at the temple?" Samaritha asks as the four of them cross the courtyard of the Gold Goblin, heading for the front steps. "Did you find out where she is staying?"
"I was able to narrow down the flat in Leeward a bit," Dayn grins as they climb the steps. "Rose doesn't know exactly where it is, but she did a bit of digging when Lil first moved out of the temple, followed her at a distance a time or two. She's somewhere between the House of the Silken Veil and the river; that gives us a handful of blocks to canvass. She's not in one of the public boarding houses; Rose thinks she probably rented a private room from a businessman or shopkeeper."
As they enter the Gold Goblin, the first thing they notice is that the casino floor is carpeted and its furnishings returned; the second is that Gristav and Thuvalia are breaking in the new carpet by dancing together on it over near the bar.
"Hm," Thuvalia remarks of Gristav's pedestrian efforts. "You at least managed not to step on my toes. Never mind. I have an idea. But I'll need the Harrower," she flings a glance at Malkith who has just entered the building, "and the redhead."
"And here I was about to call 'dibs'.", Gristav says in soft Varisi, sharing a smile if Thuvalia turns her eye to him. Changing to common, he muses aloud, "Is there a Varis word for that? Isn't it a Hobbish word? 'Dibs'...", he says experimentally, as though holding the word to the light and setting it in a balance. "...dibs..."
He waves the others over, with dutiful eyes for the Maestra's selections.
Phillip doesn't yet retrieve the key, instead walking to the door and seeing it safely closed against aural oversight. Spinning on Larur he raises an eyebrow and challenges straight back at him "Actually you're paying for one room of furniture... since I talked your carpenter down enough to warrant my own furnishings for free. Less than two days I've been in Saul's employ... less than two." fire rising within his belly as his Sczarni upbringing lends venom to his words.
"You've got to make a choice Larur... Your heart is weaker than mine when it comes to what lurks in shadows, either you place trust and remain with a happily shrouded gaze... or you beg your way to stand beside me and have your hands stained with whatever taint and filth I choose to roll in." pausing for a moment before gesticulating with forceful intonation "But for fecks sake make that choice and grasp it... I'll not have you standing aside to snidely cast aspersions. So, eyes open or shut?"
"You call it weakness; I call it strength, not to skulk in the shadows and plot and scheme," Larur replies, scowling. "That's a philosophical difference we won't settle this side of the Boneyard, and I'll no more expect to renew our acquaintance in Torag's forges than you should look for me in your Wasp Queen's nest. But it's my coin paying your salary, for all that you're Saul's project. Why he took to you, I don't know, but as long as I'm paying you, I'd like to believe that whatever veins you're mining around town are filling the Goblin's hod as well as your own."
Measuring the dwarf's words, Phillip shrugs and leans back against a wall "Very well, you didn't quite answer the question, but I'm guessing that's as close to a yes as your Dwarven sensibilities will allow... which means eyes open... which begets full disclosure."
"I arrived to your fair city with tail firmly betwixt legs having been bounded out of another on fear of incarceration. Nothing too serious mind, merely the theft of a ring from a freshly made cadaver... but circumstances surrounding that don't affect the now. I heard of the grand opening of this... establishment and figured it would be a fine way to spend an evening... robbing your guests while they and you weren't looking." flashing teeth in a roguish grin.
"I'd done quite well for myself when the fracas broke out and throats were threatened with being opened. Rather than flee with the sheep I saw another opportunity to avail myself of spilled chips that lie upon the floor amidst the chaos. But alas such opportunity did not arise and before I knew it Saul had invited me to join him. At the time I thought Bojasc was to play a pretty tune upon my head, but that was not to be."
"However since offer was made and accepted I've come to view the opportunities afforded by your hospitality far outweigh the ability for me to conjure gold of my own accord... thusly I come to Saul's service." specific emphasis on certain words to color the commentary.
"Since then the interests in which I've acted have been shared - both Saul's and mine. Yesterday I hopefully established a web of whispers that might bring word of nascent violence before it's blood stains your freshly lain carpet. Today I viewed first hand the faces of those that might bring that violence to your door if certain parties took sufficient interest... and tonight I will getting properly banjaxed with the one that gave me the lump on my forehead with sights set on seeing if he might be up for freelance savagery and murder if there is a need."
Dropping the relative jocularity for more pointed words as he opens hand and extends it to be furnished with the key "So perhaps your grumbling might be better extended to the fop downstairs who seems to think that being taught to dance is a good use of your precious gold rather than myself... I'm busy." eyes afire and challenging.
The dwarf looks near-apoplectic at the news that Phil was a pickpocket and thief at their grand opening. "And salt wouldn't have melted in your mouth that night, would it?" he scowls, handing over the key in disgust. "'Trust ain't a word that comes easy in these parts,' indeed. I guess Saul did know what he was doing, hiring you on. Better a thief in our employ than one preying on us," he admits grudgingly. "The salary Saul's promised you lot is as good as theft; try to satisfy yourself with picking my pocket in that manner." He crosses the office to open the door and show Phil back out onto the floor. The halfling can see the rest of the Goblin's employees, less Tendal, have returned.
Accepting the key proferred Phil makes it disappear into his still unbuttoned coat, and only very manfully resists the temptation to lift the other keys from the yet unclosed desk drawer when Larur's back is turned. Sighing he adds "Time will come when you'll be thankful for an honestly dishonest man Larur..." before making to leave the office and spying the other men employed by the Goblin.
Raising a hand in greeting he cries "Ho there, Larur has keys and beratements both - freshly cut and ready to be delivered."
"Well, that certainly does narrow things down a bit. It'll still take some time and effort to search, but far less than the entire Leeward district." Malkith observes hopefully, "Well done, Daynadrian.
"Unfortunately, Braddon and I were less successful at our efforts. We suspect we've figured out what happen to Ananda Mescher's housemaid, but it isn't pleasant. Perhaps the most fortunate part is having earned the tentative trust of the Gendarmes," he fills the others in as they step into the Golden Goblin.
The hopeful expression Malkith is wearing upon their return quickly sours as he spies Thuvalia with Gristav. "Zergatik ez Gendarmes hartu bere urrundu gabe?" he mutters.
"Come, come!", Gristav beckons. "Maybe one of you is a better dancer than I.", he says hopefully, but then with a glance at Thuvalia, he adds smiling, "No. Surely, one of you, is a better dancer than I."
"Let's talk over the day. Is it still hot out there as it was? Let me go fetch or make more ice...", Gris rambles out loud, ambling in quietly, to the kitchen.
Samaritha looks startled, then scowls sourly at the sight of the dancing pair. As Gristav waves her over, she gives Malkith a questioning glance, then folds her arms and lifts her chin with dignity as she deigns to respond to the summons.
"You! The Harrower, too," Thuvalia demands imperiously, beckoning to Malkith. "Both of you. We need to begin work on the dance for Sunday night. We have only five days to prepare. Do not worry: I will be the star, so any deficiencies in your performances will attract little notice. We will do Ergela en Iruzur. She and I will be the dancers, the Harrower will play our handler, and the new fellow will be the rube we rob blind."
"Ergela en Iruzur?" Samaritha is startled out of her pose of disinterest. "But I've never--"
"Come now, you are Varisian, aren't you? Varisian enough, anyway," she eyes Samaritha's eartips and upswept eyebrows. "We'll wrap a scarf around that. You must know Ergela en Iruzur or at least have seen it. I'll handle the difficult steps; you can be the pickpocket. And before you tell me you've never that, the rube will be in on it so you needn't worry about him catching you; it's all choreographed for laughs. You'll empty his pockets and toss the valuables to the Harrower -- we'll get him a costume with dozens of pockets. His hat and boots, as well, and the sword from his scabbard. I provide the talent; the rest of you provide the comedy. The crowd loves seeing a fool duped, not least because they imagine it could never happen to themselves."
"Brava. You'll have to plan for the audience in the round, so to speak. And as for talent; I'm sure even this can be done badly, but I'll do my best. I can also, perhaps after a change of costume, offer music to dance by, of whatever sort you can provide me beforehand. And some limited illusions. Samaritha has knowledge of my repertoire, she might be best able to guide to the intersection of spellbook and... scarf?"
Gristav smiled at Samaritha. He hadn't forgotten she might be angry with him, and he didn't allow himself hope that she might have forgotten. But a smile went there, so he put it there, sincerely.
"Water? Tea? And Ice! A cheap trick, but it means I have plenty!", he asked the room, going into the kitchen.
Seeing his catcall ignored, Phillip turns to Larur and shrugs before buttoning his coat back together as he slowly circuits the newly carpeted room. Having not been called into their dance and having little reason to force his entry into it, he instead maintains his position below the radar and languidly makes for the door and exit back unto the streets.
The expression Samaritha shoots Gristav is not a smile in return; it's chilly enough that, once in the kitchen, the ice cubes solidify so quickly they crack, white and murky. As he is assembling his refreshments, Saul comes down the stairs, his everpresent bodyguard at his shoulder. He glances at Gris a moment before recognition dawns. "Ah, Larur's friend. Gristav, is it?"
Larur is unmoved by Phil's jibe and subsequent languid shrug, scowling stolidly after the halfling as he makes for the door. When Phil reaches the veranda, the dwarf extinguishes the lamp in his office and closes the door, striding across the floor toward Dayn and Braddon. "Suppose you'll be wanting keys to the back door too?" he asks when he arrives, offering each of them one of the freshly-cut copies.
The expression Samaritha shoots Gristav is not a smile in return; it's chilly enough that, once in the kitchen, the ice cubes solidify so quickly they crack, white and murky. As he is assembling his refreshments, Saul comes down the stairs, his everpresent bodyguard at his shoulder. He glances at Gris a moment before recognition dawns. "Ah, Larur's friend. Gristav, is it?"
"Friend the truest word in that sentence, sir. It is. And two hours before, I'd have counted Samaritha and Phillip as well, but various mis-steps appear to have made distances, there and there. In the wise of progress, I can report carpeting laid, and Thuvalia first cautioned against the ill manner I believe she wears as a defense, and second given a soapbox on which to stand, to help with her perhaps feeling short. In planning now: a performance of the 'Rolling of the Rube', if I hear it right, a comedic and perhaps salacious skit, where an oblivious outsider is picked clean by the deft hands of our damsel dancers... It occurs to me, I probably should have let Thuvalia tell you that. I don't expect she'll spare you, in any case."
"I'm just now magicking some ice. Samaritha's helped with that. Can I offer you something chilled? You, Bojasc?"
Malkith's scowl does not fade as Thuvalia explains her planned entertainment for the coming weekend. Without so much as a glance to Samaritha, he replies coldly, "Ez dut zure orkestazio, parte izan, harpy. Herr Vankaskerkin du kontratatu ninduen seguru guardia bere Urrezko Goblin inbertsioa, ez du bere entretenimendu gisa. Ez dut aukera ematen dit oharkabetu nahi duzun sustratua gehiago arazoak dira."
He pauses the length of a heartbeat to calm the threat of a rising temper, then in clear Common says, "Trouble that you actively had a hand in causing."
Having said his piece, he starts to stalk off towards the bedrooms.
"Oso ondo! Zalantzarik gabe aurkituko Lubbertown en elkartua zahar bat prest zatia jokatu nahi dut ahal izan dut ... bazaude gehiago jarriz ezezagunen etxean sartu eroso," Thuvalia calls after Malkith spitefully.
At the heated Varisian words from the front room, Gristav grimaces. To Saul he says, "If there is some other purpose, more important than the Caravari Night, and I've obstructed that purpose... Perhaps there's another conversation, we should have?"
"The Rube's Roll?" Saul asks with a nostalgic grin. "Been a while since I've seen it. I was the rube a time or two, and let me tell you, if you take care to empty most of your pockets first and just leave what you would have tossed to the girls anyway, the experience is well worth it. An insider as the mark, I hope? Wouldn't want people to assume getting robbed is one of the Goblin's hallmarks. Have to talk logistics; we'll need space for dancing, not to mention an audience. Put up lamps out in the courtyard perhaps? Some sort of raised stage?"
"Hm? No, no, nothing more important than putting on a good show -- except making sure that the show can go on in the first place, perhaps. We need both: no good prepping a show if we're out of business before we can put it on, and frankly, no good staying in business if we've nothing to draw a crowd with when the time comes. I'll have a chat with La Barabbio: see what she needs and try to paper over any hard feelings."
Saul pushes through the swinging doors of the kitchen and out onto the casino floor, shadowed by Bojasc. "Ladies!" he grins beatifically. "I hear you're planning our next great success for Varisian Caravan Night. Tell me what you need, and Larur and I will set about procuring it for you, won't we, Larur?" The dwarf's answering scowl is less accommodating than Saul's words.
Standing apart and alone once more, Phillip raises the collar of his coat and moves out of the Goblin and into the afternoon street. He made his way cautiously through the streets to what he hoped would be a warmer reception and embrace from Ethel rather than the vitriol and mistrust given by Larur.
Left in the kitchen, Gristav gathered what ice had survived the hours, or just been brought to clouded existence, and busied himself in setting to boil more water for tea. He looted the larder again, as he had at lunch, taking a share enough for a snack for six. With a pitcher of water and another of overstrong tea intended for chilling or watering, the tray assembled is heavy, but manageable to Gristav's relative brawn. With uncharacteristic wisdom, he leaves his staff in the kitchen, keeping the second hand for balance of the tray.
Bearing the tray to the bar, he lands it with care, wondering momentarily where the halfling Phillip had gotten to. Guessing at a hobbitish nap toward the recovery of his good humor, Gristav nodded in approval. There was a light of wisdom in the halfling, for all the polished brass of the lamp might hide it.