Phillip muses for a few moments before returning a nod "Fair enough" producing his dagger from within his waistband "Each with their own blade then? And a silver on each throw?" raising an eyebrow to see if the terms are agreeable.
If so, he stands with them, removing his jacket and pushing sleeves past his elbows to allow for free-er movement. He then takes aim, standing angle on and throwing with an easy overhead movement.
While the contests take place, between the throws and while pacing back and forth to collect his blade Phil allows any conversation to flow around him, smiling if he manages to take a pot and offering appreciation to the Varisi if beaten.
Malkith sits quietly to the side, listening unobtrusively as he picks at his meal. As Saul addresses him, the Harrower looks up at his employer. The two men stare at each other for a long moment; one nervously, the other grimly. Finally, Malkith breaks the silence, "There are other entities at work in this plot. Whether Little Scarlet is working for them or working with them, I do not know, but I fear that Shorafa and Zincher are going to be the least of worries."
Malkith turns to Samaritha, "He's correct," gesturing to Tendel, "Scrying on Herr Mescher is not something done with ease. However, if our culprit has the resources to employ a drug such as Indigo Dream for a seemingly simple kidnapping and robbery, then I doubt employing such divinations are much an effort either. Ondo egin, maitea.
"Either way," he continues, turning his attention to the rest of the room, "It is likely that the necklace is of more importance than it would seemingly appear; possessing importance beyond its monetary worth."
"So, tonight we break into what we hope is Lil's place, and tomorrow we try to find out more about this necklace?" Daynadrian asks.
Larur scowls. "I don't like sitting around a table plotting a crime," he says. "Might as well be the damned Sczarni ourselves. Can't you talk to the landlord and find out if the place is Lil's or if it isn't?"
"You're assuming he'd tell us the truth," Saul points out. "At the very least, he'd be likely to tip her off that people were asking about her. She might run back to Shorafa or to some other protector we know nothing about, and we'd be back at square one."
"We won't take anything," Braddon assures Larur. "We go in, we look around, we leave. They won't even know we've been there. Heck, if they're honest citizens, they'll be home and we won't even have to go in."
Braddon sits up and leans forward to make his point. "But if it is Lil's hideout, then tomorrow this is all over and the Goblin can go ahead with making a fortune and we can stand around, be bored and wait for the next idiot that tries to take us on."
Braddon smiles encouragingly. It all seems very simple to him.
"Over, how?", Gristav asks. "Meeting her does not end the question. It only begins the questioning. Oh, we might prompt a magical attack by her, merely by being in her home, and then 'defend' our minds and souls by spilling her blood. Is that the plan? I ask, because I don't think it IS the plan. And because I do think, that if we have no plan, the odds favor such an unplanned collapse of this house of cards, which I agree, it does seem she built."
"So, over, how? If there's no plan, if there a goal? A point we wish to reach, that we can draw a map to?"
Braddon shrugs. "My plan is turn up, search the place, leave. If it's Lil's place, collect proof, collect her when she comes back, then leave. The more of us there are, the more likely she'll surrender quietly. Only an idiot picks a fight they can't win." His eyes flick briefly to Thuvalia before resting back on Gristav.
"Have you got a better plan?"
The Varisians accept Phillip's terms, and the other gladiators greet the prospect of watching the contest eagerly. Varg and Harry quietly begin to make some side bets on the outcome of the contest among themselves.
Phil: 16
Phil: 13
Phil: 19
Phil: 10
Phil: 9
Phil: 20
Phil: 14
Phil: 6
Phil: 10
Somewhat to Phil's surprise perhaps , he finds that he makes a fairly good showing against the gladiators; all their daggers cluster around the same general area, save for a few throws when their grips slip at an inopportune moment. While the Varisian's daggers sink deeper into the wood and would, no doubt, be more deadly in combat, for the purpose of target-practice he is their near equal. He takes two of the ten rounds, winning back 6 of the 10 silvers he wagered, Ranef cheering each of his victories.
Phillip is heartened by his decent showing and also willing to deepen the challenge also. "Fairly done... though I see you're well at practice at this range... care to heighten the stakes a mite? Take it to two silvers a toss and a bit further across the room?" eyes twinkling slightly as he uses his skill at léger de main to twirl his dagger around his hand by the hilt. With a wink at Ranef he smiles and awaits the Varisi's response.
If the Varisi agree:
Phil slips the dagger into his waist in a smooth movement before clapping hands "Excellent..." turning back to his earthenware cup and draining another slug of firewater from it. He then sets up a chair at the appropriate distance to use as a platform from which to launch his daggers so that he can more easily account for gravity over the increased range.
Braddon shrugs. "My plan is turn up, search the place, leave. If it's Lil's place, collect proof, collect her when she comes back, then leave. The more of us there are, the more likely she'll surrender quietly. Only an idiot picks a fight they can't win." His eyes flick briefly to Thuvalia before resting back on Gristav.
"Have you got a better plan?"
"Yours is fine, now that it's stated. Enter, search. Perhaps lie in wait. Cause Lil's surrender... or her subdual? And bring her... where? Here? We're giving away a lot of information, showing our entire hand. What will we learn in return? And what is the intended outcome?"
"I rarely ride until I know where I'm trying to get. At least, lately."
"The Gold Goblin is threatening to turn into Saul Vankaskerkin's Reformatory for Wayward Girls," Daynadrian admits, with a sideways smirk at Thuvalia. "More to the point, it's a long walk through a populated area from where we suspect Lil may be holed up, and dragging an unwilling tiefling through the streets, particularly a minor celebrity like Lil, is bound to attract attention. Perhaps we'd be better off questioning her there and then calling for the guard to handle the business with Mescher's daughter?"
"Remember," Samaritha puts in worriedly, "we have reason to believe Lil might have some talent with charms and compulsions. Elves are resistant to such magic," she glances at Braddon, Daynadrian, and Gristav, "but not immune. She could try to twist one of you into her ally, turn you against the others."
Phillip is heartened by his decent showing and also willing to deepen the challenge also. "Fairly done... though I see you're well at practice at this range... care to heighten the stakes a mite? Take it to two silvers a toss and a bit further across the room?" eyes twinkling slightly as he uses his skill at léger de main to twirl his dagger around his hand by the hilt. With a wink at Ranef he smiles and awaits the Varisi's response.
The Varisians glance at each other; then one shrugs. "Fair enough," he says.
They begin to move back, and Harry jumps up to help push furniture out of the way, when Ranef interjects, enthusiasm shining in his eyes. "Wait! I, Ranef, wish to play at this game!" He fumbles for his moneypouch to buy his way in.
"As I understand such magics, we would believe ourselves her friend. But we would not automatically yield to her authority. We might even, as her friend, insist she come, even force her to come, to clear up this mess with the Goblin, before she come to Mescher's hands, and harm. I expect she may have been part of more than one pleasant shore leave, but I doubt Shore Leave would be any part of pleasant, for her."
"If we hold such a thought in our head... And it is a truthful one, and sincere, at least for my part... If we are acting as a friend, becoming a friend needn't lose that incentive. I offered to put Thuvalia over my knee, though I like her well enough. I embarrassed and incensed Samaritha, meaning it as an assistance. I can censure or subdue dear Lil... IF what we intend for her is kinder than Mecher's methods."
"What do we intend for her?"
Phil smiles at Ranef "Of course, all coin is welcome where skill and chance decide" before turning back to the Varisi and winking, suggesting that Ranef's entry gives an extra two gold in the pot that will be going to one of the three of them.
The added distance foils Phillips arm more often than he aims true, though towards the end of the series as his arm tires he loosens up and relaxes into the contest a little more - his aim helped by the lack of tension.
"I thought Saul would want to question her. But here or there, I don't mind. She has that huge cowl to hide her face, so we could get her back here without too much trouble. Especially if it's still dark.
I don't want to hurt her. Not yet. But if she does try and use magic on us I'll cut her hands off."
Braddon takes a sip of ale then frowns.
"Though then I'd have to put the manacles on her feet."
Gristav is struck by the mention of dismemberment on use of magic against a vigilante arrest on suspicion of conspiracy. He's actually speechless, until Braddon pursues the concept to the repurposing of manacles.
"Yes. That would only be logical.", Gristav says worriedly.
"Let me propo... let me suggest I meet her first. Here's why: You can retain my staff. Without my favored weapon, and with the spells I have prepared, I am far less threat to us, if turned, than any of you more robust casters or warriors. Further, I've already demonstrated, I trust, that Lil would have a slower time talking me into such action, or talking information out of me, than with you others. And that is assuming I succumb to her magics. Which, to be honest, would be a fair assumption."
"In either case, I would express to her our concerns, and that certain evidences can show her involvement, and the growing darkness of the plot, and that we propo... that we suggest that by pooling our mutual interest and resources, we might find the truth of the plot, the better to satisfy Mescher, whose hounds are snuffling about. This will give hope to the innocent and inspire the guilty, to learn what we know. As the one who knows least, and least directly, I am a pawn to you knights and bishops; first to be risked, an obstacle to maneuver the red queen."
"I'd want us to consider a hoodwink and manacles as an alternative to maiming, should things become so combative. If we want to be less obtrusive while traveling, a mask or a veil over a hoodwink would attract less attention."
"And speaking darkly, now...", he said with regret, "If this must lead to blood, and if we are to speak glibly of it, then let it be of such damaging drama to the discoverer that it is spoken of in whispered words. Such travel faster than open words, to the ears that feed on such."
Malkith smiles approvingly at Samaritha's assessment of Lil' Scarlet's spell casting abilities. As the group continues to discuss their options of tonight's hi jinx, Malkith silently weighs their plans against his own suspicions.
Samaritha looks stricken by Braddon's statement of intent as well. "Remember," she tells him quietly, "that a perfectly innocent person, if confronted by strangers breaking into her room, will undoubtedly use magic as a defense if she is trained in it. I know I would. Manacles or a gag are less ... permanent a dissuasion."
"I thought Saul would want to question her. But here or there, I don't mind."
"Yes," Saul puts in, "we have ... facilities to put a person in the mindset to be cooperative, as the lovely Thuvalia has learned." He grins at her, not unkindly, to which she returns a scowl. "If you find Lil, the more quickly and quietly you can get her here, the better. And, uh, uninjured, or at least not permanently. There are other people looking for her, and I'd like us to have our shot at some answers before the Gendarmes come looking for her. Then, when we're done, I daresay Shorafa will want her back. She can deal with Mescher, and I'd as soon not anger the tiefling abbess by maiming one of her prettiest playthings. This," he displays his own stump, "was business, not personal, remember."
He turns his attention more directly to Braddon. "Bleeds quite a bit too, I can tell you from personal experience," he goes on conversationally. "Unlikely to survive without a cleric on hand to heal the stump right away. Can't get a great many answers from a subject who's bled out. Useful as a threat, of course, but not if she calls your bluff. Pass the mushrooms, please."
Gristav notices Samaritha's discomfiture mirroring his own, his unease increasing with the word 'facilities'. His eyes flick from Saul to Thuvalia to Larur.
Pondering what he's witnessing, he's silent until he mutters and gestures at the mushrooms, which drift airily toward Saul.
"Could we perhaps all agree that authority and opportunity to remove limbs, includes authority and opportunity to render a person unconscious? And that such is our preferred mode of field control for foeman casters?"
In the depths of his worried mind, a haggish cackle mocked, "Tee hee hee hee, baker you be! Baker to butcher be, Tee Hee hee Hee!"
Gristav comforted himself in packing peas among the curves of mushrooms on his plate.
Phil: 5
Phil: 11
Phil: 17
Phil: 10
Phil: 6
Phil: 4
Phil: 13
Phil: 15
Phil: 20
Phillip does indeed fare less well this time. The chair he is standing on helps his blade fight gravity over the added distance, but he is unused to the added height and unstable footing and can only compensate by trial and error, during which time the first Varisian -- Drezi, Phil believes -- hits the knothole dead on several times.
Ranef manages some good throws as well, although the small blade of the dagger looks comically undersized in his large hand, but none good enough to beat the pair of Varisians until near the end of the set. Drezi seems to tire, or else the liquor he sips while they others are throwing is getting to him, and on the eighth toss, Ranef's dagger, though only nicking the edge of the knot in the wood is the most accurate throw. The Kellid roars with approval, cheering himself on. It isn't until the last round of throws at the farther distance that Phil is able to take the pot.
Braddon shifts uncomfortably under Samaritha's gaze.
"I wasn't really serious about the cutting off of hands thing. When you're in a fight the last thing you want to do is distract yourself. You take whatever opening you can. Hands move way too quick. Go for the head and torso, though thighs are good too. All around their heavy centre. And if she's smart and comes along quietly, there'll be no need for violence at all.
So, we turn up, we search. If it's not her place, we leave. If it is, we stay. If she's there, invite her here. If she's not, wait till she's back, then invite her here. If she comes, no violence. If she resists, we jump on her. Several to one, we should be able to take her with hardly a scratch. Who's coming again?"
"I'm in," Daynadrian volunteers cheerfully, "as I'm the one with the lockpicks. We could use someone who can tell us if there's a ward on the door. Probably someone who can make a bit of light, too. The moon's on the wane, and that alley is narrow; even I might have a hard time seeing clearly enough to work the lock. Suppose we could make do with a candle if we have to."
"I've only the barest of glimmer or gleam at hand, for light, courtesy of long and habitual prestidigitative practicum. Not enough for a room, but perhaps enough for a lock. I have however prepared to expand my senses into the magical spectra, so I at least meet that need. Beside that, the Least Infrigidating Ray, provider of our ices and cooled creams, but a weapon, in a pinch. And of greater magics, a frictionless field and the feeble projection of my fevered imagination wait in reserve."
Smiling, Gristav translates, "Which is to say, I'm coming, and can detect magics. I explained a bit of how that works earlier, Braddon, do you recall?"
Phil keeps cheerful as his purse is lightened, content to play the long game rather than short. He is sure to enthusiastically celebrate Ranef's minor victory before knives give way to drink once more. He plays the slightly awed but generous visitor, ensuring that the others are well furnished with drink and listening to tales offered as much as he tells ones of his own. He is careful to not talk of Magnimar, instead focusing on more genial folk tales of Varisia.
When bottles are empty and meat consumed, a warm buzz of early drunken-ness has settled upon the halfling's shoulders. Thanking Ranef and the others "Company was mighty, but drink is now well consumed and I needs be off. I trust to see you on the sand come matchday?" before leaning conspiratorially close to Ranef and whispering o'erloud with a slight slur "Just make sure you tell me if they're worth a bet before I lose my purse."
Farewells made and the dark of Riddleport beckoning again, Phil tidies his shirt and jacket and turns a collar against the chill. Knowing of his tipsy nature he is careful to be doubly sure against that which dwells in the shadowed alleys as he makes his way to Ethel's. Smiling as he recognizes the lodgings, he whistles a jaunty Varisi tune as he makes for the stairs.
"I will go," Malkith says without looking up from his half-eaten plate of food, "If only for the opportunity to address Little Scarlet face-to-face." He chews on a tuft of bread for a moment before adding, "If it is indeed her residence that we're going to, I can provide some wards to protect us."
Tendal frowns. "I hardly think, sir," he addresses Saul, "that it would be seemly for me to be seen skulking about dark alleys, associated with the Goblin as I am. If, Desna forbid, the Gendarmes were to be called, Braddon and Malkith could use their connections with the General to extricate themselves, but I don't believe we want a senior member of the Gold Goblin staff revealed as a co-conspirator. It would paint an even larger target on the business."
Thuvalia and Samaritha similarly beg off, with less or more grace, as is their wont, and the away party is determined to be four. Daynadrian nods with approval. "Four should be enough to subdue a single target without being so many to draw unwanted attention in the streets. We ought to be able to look like a group of revelers returning from the attractions of Free-Coin."
"Then it's decided? Braddon's blades, Malkith's musings, Daynadrian's day-in-night elven eyesight, and my own magics. We might perhaps go as, or try to appear as, two groups. With a bandane, over my ears, and speaking Varisi in Malkith's company, we are two Varisi. Daynadrian and Braddon, another group of two? Does that seem suitable? If we 'two Varisi' are accosted, we might be following an omen, arguing the significance of a lost feather, as, you know, Varisi are wont to do..." Gristav smiled a slow foolish smile. "If they want to believe it, they will."
When bottles are empty and meat consumed, a warm buzz of early drunken-ness has settled upon the halfling's shoulders. Thanking Ranef and the others "Company was mighty, but drink is now well consumed and I needs be off. I trust to see you on the sand come matchday?"
"Fillif, my friend, I still owe you a drink, no?" Ranef gets to his feet like a proper host as his guest readies to take his leave. "We talk Akron into letting us out in the town, and I will pay out of my winnings." He jingles his 8 silver as proudly as if it hadn't used to be 2 gold.
Harry and Varg wish the halfing a good evening cheerfully enough, although Varg appears to be a man of few words. The Varisians have grown friendlier as well, whether due to the liquor or to the offering of food and drink or to the chance Phillip gave them to win back some of their losses from the earlier bout. "Aye, 'Fillif,'" Drezi grins lazily, "we're never glad to see the back of a man with a full purse and a sense of adventure. Pleased to shorten another long evening with you at your leisure."
Hearing the leave-taking, Akron emerges from his room to walk Phillip downstairs and lock the door again behind him. He gives the halfling a shrewd glance as he opens the door onto the Riddleport night, attempting to gauge the level of his drunkenness. "Make sure you're heading north when you leave here," he points the way helpfully, "and don't wander into Rotgut or onto the wharves."
Knowing of his tipsy nature he is careful to be doubly sure against that which dwells in the shadowed alleys as he makes his way to Ethel's. Smiling as he recognizes the lodgings, he whistles a jaunty Varisi tune as he makes for the stairs.
Between Akron's caution and his own painstaking awareness of his surroundings, Phil arrives safely at the door outside of which he left Ethel some hours before. Opening the latch, he finds himself in a small entryway. Corridors extend on either side; directly ahead is a rather cramped flight of stairs, painfully contorting around on itself to climb to the next higher story in the most economical space possible. After the drinks he shared with the gladiators, Phil is slightly dizzy by the time he has corkscrewed his way up to the top of the staircase. Here also, a corridor stretches away in either direction, but there is also a sturdy stepladder bolted against the wall which leads directly up to a hatch in the ceiling.
"It's all the way at the top of the stairs; you can't miss it." Ethel's directions come to mind as he looks down the hallways on either side and sees several doors; he could certainly miss one of those, if he chose the wrong one. He climbs the stepladder and raps at the door in the ceiling. After a moment, he hears soft footsteps above and Ethel's voice asking cautiously, "Who's there?" When he has identified himself, there is a scraping sound, as of something heavy being moved, and then the door above him swings upward and open, lamplight and Ethel's smiling face both shining down on him.
To Ranef, Phillip gives a wink and promise "If you make it past matchday with hands intact I'll see if I can talk Akron into an excursion." To the Varisi he smiles and gives a short bow.
At Akron's advice, Phillip nods and turns his collar to the wind before pausing and replying "Thankyou Akron..." almost saying more before shaking his head slightly and turning into the dark.
---------------
Still heady with the buzz of liquor Phillip is slightly precarious upon the stepladder as Ethel opens up the trapdoor into their lodgings. "As promised milady, returned without any misadventure... though I am a little drunk." chuckling a little at his own joke, before continuing "Shall we above, or should we retire to the Goblin?"
Malkith resists the urge to roll his eyes and instead casts them towards Samaritha.
"What is the address of this place," he then asks Daynadrian, "I should want to arrive ahead of the group. By only about ten or fifteen minutes; enough time for me to make my own preparations of which I do not wish to bore the rest of you."
"Malkith," Samaritha murmurs to him with a frown of concern, "jokatu egingo segurua izango duzu?"
Daynadrian gives Malkith directions to the building they suspect may harbor Lil's secret lodging. "There's a scribe, a hat shop, and a seller of shoes on the ground floor, and a hidden staircase leading up to a second-story door that you can't see until you turn down a narrow alley. You can get there from the street on either side; would make it handy to avoid being seen coming and going regularly."
"How about we just show you? We're happy to wait. I trust no one is foolish enough to rush in to what might be a dangerous situation." Braddon glances to Gristav.
"It's probably safer if we all stick together anyway. Four of us with weapons. Everyone will just assume we're another gang of thieves and ignore us."
"How about we just show you? We're happy to wait. I trust no one is foolish enough to rush in to what might be a dangerous situation." Braddon glances to Gristav.
Gristav nearly sprays a mouthful of ale, and smiles widely. "Surely not by intent. But, there is a lady involved."
"It's probably safer if we all stick together anyway. Four of us with weapons. Everyone will just assume we're another gang of thieves and ignore us."
"Except perhaps for those who see a competing gang of thieves? But there's merit in any plan, over the merit of no plan, or of several. Were I alone, I would sit on the lady's stairs, and read, by moonlight, until she returned home. I would then offer her our alliance in the clarification of the apparent evidence against her, given that the General des Gendarmes would have it all from his agents, shortly after dawn." Gris smiled faintly. "Wanting to know the what and the how and the how well we could prove it, I'd expect some degree of cooperation."
"Meeting her on the stairs also keeps her from seeing her abode had been trespassed. It rather strongly implies the opposite, I would think."
Still heady with the buzz of liquor Phillip is slightly precarious upon the stepladder as Ethel opens up the trapdoor into their lodgings. "As promised milady, returned without any misadventure... though I am a little drunk." chuckling a little at his own joke, before continuing "Shall we above, or should we retire to the Goblin?"
"Oh, come on up, just for a while," she wheedles, extending her hand to take his and pull him up the remaining steps. "I want you to see the place." As his head and shoulders rise through the scuttle hole into the room, however, she recoils from the scent of cheap, strong liquor on his breath and clothing. "Phil!" she scolds mildly. "You smell like a distillery!"
The space into which Phil is ascending was obviously built as a crawl space for storage purposes. It runs the length of the building, one long, narrow room, the dormer windows visible from the outside at floor-level within. Three cots are arranged down the room in one direction, with sea lockers and crates for storage, each curtained off for a little privacy; in the other direction are a table with sawed-off legs and short stools. Near the trapdoor in the floor is a large chest, obviously the heavy object she just pushed off of the door so it would open. Once he has gotten used to the ceiling being just inches above his head -- a very unfamiliar sensation indeed for a halfling -- it's really a very spacious apartment, even considering it's split three ways.
Looking about the thin room, Phil sighs quietly as he ascends the ladder. Though the apartment may seem spacious to his eyes it is still not much beyond a prison. "It is... comely Ethel, and fit for a purpose." before he puts hand on a screening curtain and chuckles "But a mite insufficient by privacy no?" casting a look with lascivious hint towards her.
Running a hand through sweaty, liquor scented and now scraggly hair Phil pauses to take a sniff of an armpit before recoiling himself "I do have a certain odour don't I... but the night was successful enough and it does pay to conform to the part expected of you."
"Nahi ditut, besterik gabe, divination bat egiteko, aldez aurretik, gu gidatzeko ekintza horien jakinduria da."
Malkith shrugs at Braddon, "As you wish." With a moment's thought he nods towards Gristav, "Perhaps it would be wise to have the luzeegia one here on the stairs when we enter; to serve as a distraction and warning should someone arrive."
"Well enough! Provided another has Art for sensing magic? No doubt Malkith?"
"Nahi ditut, besterik gabe, divination bat egiteko, aldez aurretik, gu gidatzeko ekintza horien jakinduria da."
She smiles at him. "Hala ere, ez da ideia txarra norbait izatea, beste batzuk gorde behar duzu, kezkagarria ere." She suddenly remembers both that Braddon doesn't speak Varisian and that he asked her to teach him the language so he wouldn't be excluded from conversations like this. "I'm sorry," she blushes a little, turning back to Braddon. "Malkith is going to conduct a divination at the site, to make sure you're not walking into danger. I told him it would be the job of the rest of you to make sure he isn't disturbed while he's divining."
"It's Leeward before midnight," Saul scoffs dismissively. "The worst miscreant you should run into on the streets will be a man trying to sneak out with his mistress without his wife knowing. You'll want to watch out for Croat's boys when you start breaking into places, though; they provide security for several property-owners in the district. Not knowing who owns the building in question, I can't say if he's paying for protection or not, but it's a pretty safe bet. Laz Krupt thought he could save a few silvers by cutting Croat out of the deal, and everyone knows what happened to him," he gives Tendal a significant look as he refers to the man who lost his tavern in a fire a few months ago.
"Well, there will be the divination. And if the omens are against, I can still set on the stairs as though in a tree stand. When the doe comes in sight, a man at either end of the alley establishes our serious intent."
Malkith offers Samaritha the glimpse of a smile, "Eskerrik asko kezka, maitea da."
He rises and casts a glance at everyone assembled in the room. His glance lingers for an intense moment on Saul before excusing himself. "I will collect my things and prepare for the task ahead. When the rest of you are ready, I will be waiting downstairs."
"But a mite insufficient by privacy no?" casting a look with lascivious hint towards her.
"Why, Phillip Hargreaves," she replies archly, "what on earth could respectable young women do in a bedroom that requires privacy?" Her innocent expression melts into a smirk. "That's what the chest is for," she confides, nodding to the heavy trunk. "With it atop the door, no one can get in, even with a key, until someone's come to move it. It's mostly Almah and Win; they've convinced themselves it's all right because they intend to be married when they're able." She rolls her eyes at their bourgeois morality. "He can never stay all night, though, because they have to let Maddy and me in at some point. Not like I can with you." She steps toward him promisingly, then pulls a face again. "But not until you've had a bath. Can you imagine if I showed up at Betta's in the morning smelling like a dockside tavern? Besides, you still need to wash the blood out of your hair; leave it long enough, and you'll have to cut out the snarl with a scissors. What should I bring with me?" she asks. "Anything but work clothes for the morning?"
She suddenly remembers both that Braddon doesn't speak Varisian and that he asked her to teach him the language so he wouldn't be excluded from conversations like this. "I'm sorry," she blushes a little, turning back to Braddon. "Malkith is going to conduct a divination at the site, to make sure you're not walking into danger. I told him it would be the job of the rest of you to make sure he isn't disturbed while he's divining."
Braddon looks up. "Ah, thanks. So, 'divination' means divination, right?" He smiles cheekily before turning to the others.
"We can do the alley ambush if you want, but first we have to check the room. If it's hers, we might as well stay there, out of sight, where it's warm. If we're quiet and still, she'd suspect nothing till she reached the door, and by then we've heard her footsteps on the stairs."
He shrugs.
"Best to decide once we're there. Malkith can divine inside or outside as suits his purpose." He turns back to the table.
"I'm ready whenever you want," Braddon declares reaching for another plate of food.
"what on earth could respectable young women do in a bedroom that requires privacy?" Her innocent expression melts into a smirk. "That's what the chest is for,"
In his alcohol misted state Phillip half misunderstands Ethel and spends a couple of moments staring with tilted head at the chest wondering Seems a bit small to fit two halflings into... before realizing his mistake and chuckling. "One would hope Milady that I am fast convincing you that respectable young women are not quite living as they might." flashing a charming rakish smile.
At her recoil from his aroma Phil makes no attempt to force closeness and concedes "Indeed, it seems that it is not only my clothes that need laundering." mulling over where they stand and the likely path back to the Goblin. "While we could go to trouble of heating water at the Goblin, it does strike my memory that a diversion could be made to the House of the Silken Veil on the way?" pausing to measure Ethel's reaction... not so much to the suggestion of bathing, but more to that of visiting the edifice that stands in worship to that which Phillip does also.
Ethel blushes deeply, but her eyes betray anticipation. "I've ... I've never even been inside," she confesses nervously, quickly gathering a small bundle of clothing and hairbrush for the morning.
Phillip sees the hesitation, but also the underlying eagerness and ponders a moment before fishing out a gold piece from his purse and setting it to dancing across his fingers. Raising an opportunity for Ethel to further her education he poses a question "Of course given present appearances... an opportunity presents itself for assertion and training." making the coin dance and disappear before returning it to hand with a flourish and proffering it to Ethel.
With a rougish expression he elaborates "You are a predator of the night, and I am a drunkard that you picked up for purpose of fleecing for coin. Dismayed with my stench you seek to clean me up before proceeding to the more indelicate conclusion to the evening. Would you care to attempt the charade?"