"Good even'" Sarien says with a nod of the head and a smile. "I trust that the cooks were able to work out their...disagreements...enough to provide a proper meal? Or would I be better off avoiding it entirely?"
He places two gold coins, fighting the urge to drop his smile at the cost, onto the bar. "Assuming that such dishes are edible in the first place, of course."
About how much coin did those dwarves give Sarien to spend, anyway?
Having filtered in behind the initial surge, Malkith finds his way toward the bar and puts enough coin down to buy himself a drink. He sips slowly, intent on making the drink last as long as possible. As he does, he takes note of the other late comers that have also congregated near the bar. As he lingers a little longer, observing the change in patrons as those with drinks get in line and those from the line pick up a drink before heading to the tables.
Eventually, he drifts out to the gambling floor itself. He studies the various games, as if deciding which to try first, but pays more attention to the hopefuls gather there. He pauses longer at Liry's wheel, giving the talking head a curious stare.
"Ghoulette? he asks with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation.
You, Laz Krupt! Does my heart good to see you here tonight." The man shifts nervously at being called out by name for all to hear. "And Bard Leroung! Galen Wintrish! And Quint Drovenge! Step on up here!"
"Mr. Krupt, Mr. Drovenge, a pleasure to meet you. Mr....Casamen? I am pleased to make your aquaintance as well. It is good to see that gentlemen of such prominence have taken it upon themselves to come and wish Mr. Vankaskerkin well at the beginning of this new business venture.", Tendal says, shaking the hand of each man in turn.
"As I only recently arrived in the city, I have not had time to familiarize myself with the major business interests of the area. I am quite curious as to what business each of you gentlemen lead."
"Good even'" Sarien says with a nod of the head and a smile. "I trust that the cooks were able to work out their...disagreements...enough to provide a proper meal? Or would I be better off avoiding it entirely?"
He places two gold coins, fighting the urge to drop his smile at the cost, onto the bar. "Assuming that such dishes are edible in the first place, of course."
"Have to admit, it didn't smell half bad when they were done with it," the barkeep shrugs, smiling. "And it's free while it lasts, so that's something." With a friendly nod to Sarien, he turns to take another drink order.
"Mr. Krupt, Mr. Drovenge, a pleasure to meet you. Mr....Casamen? I am pleased to make your aquaintance as well. It is good to see that gentlemen of such prominence have taken it upon themselves to come and wish Mr. Vankaskerkin well at the beginning of this new business venture.", Tendal says, shaking the hand of each man in turn.
"As I only recently arrived in the city, I have not had time to familiarize myself with the major business interests of the area. I am quite curious as to what business each of you gentlemen lead."
"Quint here's our local metalsmith," Saul answers for them, clapping a grim-looking middle-aged man on the upper arm, "and Casamen Cazynsik is our shipwright." He is a cheerful man of Varisian heritage, whose tan, leathery skin betrays a life aboardship. "Laz is between occupations right now," he goes on, patting a nervous-looking man's back sympathetically. "Used to run a fine little tavern. Some of the best evenings of my life were spent there, before my own troubles. But there was an unfortunate fire several months ago. He's working on rebuilding."
"Working on paying off the Overlord for all the paperwork to let me rebuild, you mean," he laughs humorlessly. "Can't renovate an outhouse in this town without his approval, bought in gold."
"Don't I know it," Saul grins back. "Cost a pretty penny to get permission to fix up the Goblin, even before paying for the workmen and supplies. Still, here you are, Laz! Maybe you'll win enough to convince Cromarcky to turn a blind eye. If you'll excuse me, lads," he nods his own dismissal. "A businessman's work is never done, you know." With a smile and a nod, he leaves Tendal with the men.
"Magnimar?" Laz Krupt asks, as soon as Saul has departed. "Is that where Orik is? What sort of business is he in?"
"I never pegged young Orik as a businessman myself," Quint Drovenge puts in, eyeing Tendal curiously. "Seemed rather ... rudderless."
"Unless he is running a brothel," Casamen Cazynsik grins. "He would be like a baker, grown fat on sampling his own wares."
Eventually, he drifts out to the gambling floor itself. He studies the various games, as if deciding which to try first, but pays more attention to the hopefuls gather there. He pauses longer at Liry's wheel, giving the talking head a curious stare.
"Ghoulette? he asks with a mixture of curiosity and trepidation.
Despite the crowd at her table, Liry manages a cheerful wink at Malkith. "Only ghoulette table in town, sweetie. Only one in Golarion, as far as I know. You place your bet on a section, and I spin the wheel. Whatever subject matter stops in front of Dungo, he insults someone on, and everyone who bet on that section gets a payout."
Between the alternating spokes of red and black painted on the wheel are the words "Appearance," "Bloodline," "Demeanor/Presence," "Hygiene," "Skill," "Clothes/Possessions," "Body," "Race," "Courage," "Profession," "Brains," and "Something Nice." The gamblers have tossed chips of various denominations onto the wheel, and Liry gives it a spin. It whirs around while the onlookers shout encouragement to their chosen categories and finally comes to a rest on the black spoke labeled "Brains." The undead eyeballs roll down to read the lettering, then up to find a likely subject in the crowd. Fixing its evil gaze on a sailor with golden hoops through his earlobes, it croaks out, "You've such a narrow mind, when you walk fast, your earrings clank together." The crowd shouts with laughter, particularly the sailor and his friends, as Liry steps on a lever that lowers the inner ring of the wheel and lets the chips slide into a coffer beneath the table while she distributes winnings to those who bet on "Brains."
Phillip mingles aimlessly for a while, awaiting the lines for chips to lessen and the depths of drink to deepen. An eye is kept towards the Skiffs table - seeking a fellow halfling or group thereof that knows the game well...
Sense Motive:
Perception:
Phillip mingles aimlessly for a while, awaiting the lines for chips to lessen and the depths of drink to deepen. An eye is kept towards the Skiffs table - seeking a fellow halfling or group thereof that knows the game well...
While the crowd in the Gold Goblin is overwhelmingly human, what Small folk are there are drawn to the skiffs table. Although most of the taller demographic is more interested in cards, dice, or the combination of insult comedy and gambling offered at Liry's table, the halfling game appears not to be totally foreign to the humans: unsurprising, if the skiffs operators usually work in the other Riddleport casinos. The table usually draws at least one or two humans per storm; when it doesn't, the dealers engage in some teasing banter with passersby about being man enough to best a halfling. As Phillip watches the table, he notices one Small man who is very focused on his game, playing storm after storm while his fellows wander off to get drinks or listen to Dungo's insults.
"Orik's work is honest enough, he is running a glassworks. It was quite interesting seeing the operation for myself. He seems quite taken with the whole industry of it. The best thing was that I had been using the glass from his factory in my father's house for some time. Not the finest crystal mind you. But he is turning out high end every day glass, the sort that everybody buys."
"Mr. Drovenge, you are a metalsmith? What do you focus on? Utility pieces? Do you do any jewelry?"
Phillip notes the face of the halfling with the eye for skiffs before turning back to the line for chips. Sighing, he sees no alternative and joins the queue.
Phillip has no misadventures in the chip line and successfully completes his transaction.
"Orik's work is honest enough, he is running a glassworks. It was quite interesting seeing the operation for myself. He seems quite taken with the whole industry of it. The best thing was that I had been using the glass from his factory in my father's house for some time. Not the finest crystal mind you. But he is turning out high end every day glass, the sort that everybody buys."
The three men react with mild surprise to Orik's new line of work. "Glass?" Quint Drovenge asks. "Like those you drink out of? And windows and spectacles as well?" It seems never to have encouraged him that glassware had an origin other than a general store.
"I meant no offense," Casamen Cazynsik half-apologizes, with a twinkle in his eye. "It's just ... well, the way Orik found himself in need of leaving Riddleport in a hurry. And it's well known that both the Vankaskerkin boys inherited their father's taste for the ladies without also inheriting his luck with them."
"Sounds like it's done the lad good to get out on his own, out from under the burden his father's name and history put on his shoulders here at home," Laz Krupt puts in. "It was a hard thing for the boys, going from being the sons of an up-and-coming power broker to being the sons of ... well, of a disgraced has-been, if you'll forgive the turn of phrase. Admire Saul tremendously for his gumption, of course: never say die, and all that. But everyone knows he was headed for the Council, if things hadn't turned out the way they did."
"Mr. Drovenge, you are a metalsmith? What do you focus on? Utility pieces? Do you do any jewelry?"
"Jewelry?" the bearded man asks incredulously. "You think I waste my time on earrings for pirates and bracelets for whores? A decent living is made by selling something everybody needs at least once a year, and a successful business is made by producing something everybody needs ever day! Jewelry is something that nobody needs never!"
"Calm yourself, my friend," Casamen soothes him. "Mr. Deverin is new in town and doesn't know your business; he merely asked a question. If you're looking for a gift for a special someone," he grins at Tendal, "there's a gnome in the Leeward District, Ambrosia Kemplefae. Quite the little artist; she sells custom work to the folk up in Windward. Quint here specializes in more useful things: flatware, cleats for ships, anchors, harpoons."
Chips in hand, Phillip stows all bar a few silver's worth out of sight before moving back towards the Skiffs table. Once near enough, he claps eyes on the halfling that concentrates... seeking to confirm what he believes...
Malkith smiles lightheartedly as the disembodied head spouts his insults. He lingers for a second spin of the wheel before moving on to circulate amongst the crowd. Once the second wave has thinned at the counters, he will make his way there to exchange 5gp for an equivalent pile of chips.
With the correct currency in hand, he winds his way through the tables of chance once again. This time, he begins listening more intently on the conversations around him, hoping to catch wind of something more meaningful than the idle chatter of intoxicated gamblers.
Enjoying his wine, Sarien wanders over to the transaction window where he exchanges 3 gold coins for chips.
Apart from the quick whispered prayers to Desna or whoever might be listening that are commonplace in a gambling den, the most common topic of conversation Malkith overhears is Orik Vankaskerkin. Some of Saul's guests are convinced he's manufactured the letter, although they can't figure out to what end. Others think it a mistake to let the fact that Orik is alive be known publicly; they darkly fear that Saul is pushing too far by flaunting his son's survival the very night he's opening a new business venture and that Cleg Zincher won't let such open defiance go without an equally public countermove. Malkith doesn't hear any active conspiracies, however; while he overhears many predictions of reprisal, no one seems to be preparing to take matters into their own hands.
"Mr. Drovenge! I sincerely meant no offense sir. "Ships do not sail on frippery" as my father would say." Tendal says, waving a hand in negation. "I merely was inquiring because I had been thinking of a possible business opportunity, and I wished to offer a supporter of Mr. Vankaskerkin the opportunity before pressing my idea elsewhere."
"As Mr. Cazynsik says, I have just arrived in Riddleport this morning, so I know only what I have gleaned in the scant hours that I have been present. It seems that this is a...challenging environment in which to begin a new enterprise. So I must say, it is good to meet gentlemen such as yourselves who have navigated the rocks of disaster to arrive on the shores of success. If I may, I would like the opportunity to call upon you gentlemen in your place of business at some time in the near future, I would be grateful for the chance to ask some questions about the town and environs. Preferably not in such a raucous and public location." Tendal says, waving at the crowd.
Phillip takes a deep breath and allows an almost tangible change to o'ercome his form. The entrained insular caution so religiously built into his appearance sloughs away and is replaced by a more wide eyed and reckless wonder. The chips that were hidden away within a fist are instead held before him and in plain view as he fidgets with them. The grim line that his mouth cut before replaced by a laconic and easily won smile. However try as he might... his eyes always remained hard and calculating.
Drawing near to the skiffs table, he jostled around behind the backs of others a few moments before finding his way to the side of the game. "Phaw, wouldja lookit that. This is a grand old game of skiffliwiffles isn't it? I used to play this at home with my Da all the time." Catching the eye of the dealer when he can he gives a goofy wave "Heya Mr Man, how much does this cost then?" trying quite hard to strike an initial impression of a slack-jawed yokel ripe for the taking.
Bluff:
With chips in hand, Sarien approaches one of the dicing tables and watches for a moment.
"So," he says with an easy smile. "What's the bet?"
Tendal extracts from the trio at least grudging invitations to their places of business at a later date; only the Varisian shipwright seems at all enthusiastic about the idea, and Laz Krupt points out gloomily that his tavern is still unrepaired since the fire. As the men leave to purchase drinks or chips, Tendal quickly finds himself approached by other guests, all of them curious about Orik and his present situation. Some ask insistently about his bodily health and seem disappointed or disbelieving when Tendal doesn't tell a story of his washing ashore with grievous wounds or arriving in town missing fingers or toes or with only one eye; others ask about his financial state and then segue into harangues about unpaid debts the man left behind. Tendal tells the story about using glassware from the Sandpoint glassworks in his father's house so many times, he himself grows tired of it. It's with a sense of relief that he sees Saul weaving through the crowd toward him. "Excuse me, gentlemen," he grins, taking Tendal's elbow and drawing him out of the knot of interlocutors, "I need a word. How are you holding up, lad?" he asks. "Need that drink yet?"
With chips in hand, Sarien approaches one of the dicing tables and watches for a moment.
"So," he says with an easy smile. "What's the bet?"
"One slim silver coin buys you two rolls," the croupier replies smoothly, gathering the dice for another round. "Bound the house and double your stake. Of course, you're not going to retire to a life of ease on two silver," he winks. "The more you bet, the more you win!"
Drawing near to the skiffs table, he jostled around behind the backs of others a few moments before finding his way to the side of the game. "Phaw, wouldja lookit that. This is a grand old game of skiffliwiffles isn't it? I used to play this at home with my Da all the time." Catching the eye of the dealer when he can he gives a goofy wave "Heya Mr Man, how much does this cost then?" trying quite hard to strike an initial impression of a slack-jawed yokel ripe for the taking.
"Two and a half silver buys a fleet of skiffs," the dealer answers, "each skiff worth a copper to the admiral who proves himself the finest master of the fleet." His partner offers a box into which to deposit the chips and a choice of tiny colored tokens: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, brown, black, and white. The halfling Phil has marked glances across the lake at the newcomer, one eyebrow cocked quizzically.
Chuckling good naturedly at the antics and comments of the Gnome Dayn smiles and replies
"Well, with a recommendation like, Natinilinus, how can I not try the griddlecake? I am Dayn, new to this fine town, and it is a pleasure to meet you and your boon companion Sludge."
A little later, listening to Quinta, he replies "Mistress Crispen, I would like nothing better than to hear from a master storyteller such as yourself the tale of Saul, Cleg and Lil Scarelt."
Spotting the boys, Daynadrian unobtrusively makes his way over to them. Giving them the coins as promised, he listens intently to their stories, increasingly more disturbed as they continue. When done, his expression grim, his words are nevertheless encouraging, he says "You've earned your coppers tonight boys, aye, perhaps even a silver or two by the time we're done. Good work." He then counts out the coins they've earned so far, adding two more coppers each for good measure.
Turning to Finan's friend he goes on "Now son, I know you're feeling the need to get home early, but I don't think you're parents will mind too much when you come home with a pocket full of coins. If you want, I'll even speak to them personally for you. So if you're willing to stay, I'll make it worth your while. Finan, same goes for you. All I want you each to stay hidden, you over there, and you over there, and keep watch. You see any of of Zilcher's boys, or Shorafa's toughs, you come running and warn me, I'll try and make sure I'm always near the door. Ok?"
About to send them off, he suddenly thinks of something and says, somewhat urgently "You haven't seen any of them yet, have you??"
Relieved by their answer and hoping he still has enough time to warn Saul and the guards and prepare for the trouble to come, Dayn strides purposefully through the few stragglers remaining from the earlier crowd heads on up the stairs into the casino. Still not fully knowing if he can trust the half-orcs at the door, Dayn, figuring that they deserve at least some form of warning, says to them as he passes "Look alive boys, I've just got word that there will be trouble tonight. I'm off to speak with Saul."
Stopping just inside the doors, Dayn has a good look around, trying to peer through the crowd for the diminutive owner. While doing so, he also keeps an eye out for Laur. If after a few moments he doesn't see Saul or Laur, hell stop one of the closest employees and ask if they've seen either of their bosses lately. Once he begins moving through the crowd, the tall Elf will also keep an eye out for any of the others who had been hired to help with security today, and, with an urgent look and nod of his head, try and get them to come along with him.
Perception to find Saul:
Perception to find Laur:
Finian scoffs. "I'll stay -- if the pay's good enough."
Neither one of them reports seeing anyone yet who is known to work for either Zincher or Shorafa.
Dayn enters the casino by the front doors and mutters something to the half-orcs as he passes. His elven height gives him an advantage in scanning the room for familiar faces, and he quickly spies Saul standing near the central dais with Tendal. Larur the dwarf is fidgeting over near the cashier's cage, and he sees Malkith standing near Liry's crowded table. He is even able to pick out which of the circulating Hellknights is Braddon as he crosses the floor toward Saul.
After a quick glance over his shoulder at the particularly odius tannery operator and his over-perfumed mistress, Tendal turns back to Saul, "The drink will be appreciated, the rescue, even more so." he says with a small shudder.
Weaving his way between tables, patrons, Hellknights and devilish waitresses, Tendal glances over at his benefactor, "That pair was particularly...draining. You know, from what little I have observed, even though Riddleport is smaller than Magnimar, the politics and people here are much more bloodthirsty...and agressive. If I had a gold for every time I got asked if Orik was horribly maimed or injured in some way, I would be able to buy a ship."
The bar was busy, but not so busy that the bartender didn't hurry over as soon as he spotted Saul approaching.
"My good man, could you please pour me a glass of whatever middling red you have...you know, not vinegar and not costing multiple golds." he looks at Saul for a moment, "Yes I know I could order something more refined, but I am working tonight, so I won't have the opportunity to properly enjoy it. Besides, I need to walk around the edge of the crowd a bit and see what I can see." Turning back to the bartender, he continues, "Also throw half a shot of brandy into a second glass, splash some of the same wine on it and fill the rest of it up with water."
Nodding sympathetically to Finian's friend, Dayn says "That's alright then son, you be on your way, perhaps we'll see you again. Finian, that means you'll get double pay for doing the same job. Sound good?"
Unable to get the others attention or sufficiently pass on the silent message to them, Dayn continues heading straight for Saul. Upon reaching the diminutive man, Dayn grabs him by the elbow, not ungently, and says quietly, "We need to talk. Now!" Eyeing the ever present bodyguard and the distasteful fop, he adds, "You two better hear this as well."
Assuming they come with them, he leads them to a less occupied area and says in a voice pitched for their ears alone "I've just received word that there will be trouble from Zilcher's boys tonight and that there's a very good chance Scarlet Lil will be able to stir Shorafa up to cause some trouble as well. Do you have any thoughts on how you want to handle this Saul?"
"That pair was particularly...draining. You know, from what little I have observed, even though Riddleport is smaller than Magnimar, the politics and people here are much more bloodthirsty...and agressive. If I had a gold for every time I got asked if Orik was horribly maimed or injured in some way, I would be able to buy a ship."
Saul chuckles. "Stands to reason," he replies. "Everyone knows just about everyone in Riddleport -- so everything's personal. You've heard the saying about the big fish in the small pond? Piranhas, every one of us. In Magnimar, you have the luxury of emotional detachment. All the big fish have a little more swimming room before they're rubbing elbows with one another ... so to speak."
The bar was busy, but not so busy that the bartender didn't hurry over as soon as he spotted Saul approaching.
"My good man, could you please pour me a glass of whatever middling red you have...you know, not vinegar and not costing multiple golds." he looks at Saul for a moment, "Yes I know I could order something more refined, but I am working tonight, so I won't have the opportunity to properly enjoy it. Besides, I need to walk around the edge of the crowd a bit and see what I can see." Turning back to the bartender, he continues, "Also throw half a shot of brandy into a second glass, splash some of the same wine on it and fill the rest of it up with water."
"And another of these, Covey, my lad," Saul adds, raising his own almost-empty glass to the bartender, as Daynadrian approaches and draws him, Tendal and Bojasc aside, between the bar counter and the kitchen doors.
Assuming they come with them, he leads them to a less occupied area and says in a voice pitched for their ears alone "I've just received word that there will be trouble from Zilcher's boys tonight and that there's a very good chance Scarlet Lil will be able to stir Shorafa up to cause some trouble as well. Do you have any thoughts on how you want to handle this Saul?"
"Now, now, calm down, lad," Saul replies uneasily. "Exactly what did you hear and who did you hear it from? As for the best way to handle it, before it ever gets started and particularly before it gets in the doors with the customers. If we can keep this to a street brawl, they might not even notice."
Dayn nods, impressed with the small man's good sense. There was a reason he had risen to his stature, so to speak, in Riddleport. Twice now. But there was also a reason he had fallen, perhaps soon to be twice as well. He had not forgotten the stories of Mistress Crispen from earlier in the afternoon, but up to now anyway, Vankaskerkin had given him no reason to switch allegiances. There might be many things he was not, but Daynadrian Nirgassan was an Elf of his word.
"I did some snooping and scouting around this afternoon and I hired a couple of street kids to do some further snooping and listening for me. People often ignore children and thus are more likely to talk freely around them. Most of the information I have from them and, please take my word on this, they had no reason to lie to me and I have no reason to disbelieve them. They told me Zilcher's boys said there'd be trouble in the kitchen tonight, and the even though Shorafa would, on her own, be inclined to leave you be, Lil Scarlet, being her favourite, is angry enough at you to very possibly convince Shorafa to take action."
Pausing to let his words sink in, he continues "I do not think any of Zilcher or Shorafa's toughs are inside the casino yet, but I could be wrong on that. I'd be willing to stand guard outside, by the doors, or in the kitchen, but I don't know that I'd recognize any of the troublemakers even if I saw them."
Tendal eyes Daynadrian for a moment, his eyes narrowing.
What is his angle? Well for a moment let us assume there is none, what would I do differently if he just told me that we were about to get sacked? ...nothing...well in that case, guess we take the warning seriously.
Tendal swipes the second glass off the bar and takes a sip from his wine as he waits for Daynadrian's explaination.
Gah! This wine is horrible.
Braddon looks around for for anyone he can recognise and nods towards the guest rooms. He is briskly marching towards them, then ducks surreptitiously into the darkness behind the counter.
Two and a half silver buys a fleet of skiffs,"
Smiling with a cheesy grin, Phillip rustles around in his pocket and draws out the requisite chips "Couldja split a blue one for me? Ta, good man" and buys his way into the game. For the first storm, Phil plays it reasonably safe - keeping an eye of sorts on the players as well as the halfling to which he's most interested. No overt plans are put into play, nor is he too careful - instead playing as though he were nothing but the mask he's trying to wear...
Profession (Gambling):
...waiting until the pivotal last few turns to read the lay of the board.
[ooc]Please let me know if you'd like any other rolls, of feel free to roll them for me.
As Malkith continues to survey the room, he notes the elf from earlier talking to Saul and Tendal. Curious about potential developments, he begins to drift in their direction. About halfway to his destination, he catches sight of one of the Hellknights who seems to meet his gaze and motions with his helmeted head towards the guest rooms. Malkith glances towards Saul again, weighing his options. Noticing that his employer is still held in conversation, the Varisian opts to follow after the Hellknight, who has begun moving in the direction he has just indicated.
Phillip is more intent on maintaining his facade than on directing his fleet, so it comes as no great surprise that he does not win the storm. Neither does his mark, although he comes close, and Phil notices that he colluded with the eventual winner, another halfling, to ensure that a human player's strategy was well and truly scuttled. The other halfling offers a grin and a handshake to the winner, who walks away with several silvers' worth of chips. As the dealers are refilling the storm with tokens for the next round of play, he looks across the lake at Phil and nods in greeting. "Haven't seen you around the skiffs table before. New in town?" Phillip notices this halfling doesn't share Lalie's servant-class accent.
"I did some snooping and scouting around this afternoon and I hired a couple of street kids to do some further snooping and listening for me. People often ignore children and thus are more likely to talk freely around them. Most of the information I have from them and, please take my word on this, they had no reason to lie to me and I have no reason to disbelieve them. They told me Zilcher's boys said there'd be trouble in the kitchen tonight, and the even though Shorafa would, on her own, be inclined to leave you be, Lil Scarlet, being her favourite, is angry enough at you to very possibly convince Shorafa to take action."
Pausing to let his words sink in, he continues "I do not think any of Zilcher or Shorafa's toughs are inside the casino yet, but I could be wrong on that. I'd be willing to stand guard outside, by the doors, or in the kitchen, but I don't know that I'd recognize any of the troublemakers even if I saw them."
Saul frowns as he considers for a moment. "Croat's boys at the door would recognize Zincher's men, if he were to send his regulars. Problem is, Croat and Zincher are friendly right now; I'm not sure my money is enough to convince them to take up arms against their boss's ally. As for Shorafa, she doesn't have 'toughs.'" He grins at Dayn despite the tension. "You don't know Shorafa so it's a reasonable guess, but she's far more subtle. She wouldn't send thugs to bust the place up; she'd ... let a swarm of wasps loose in the building and cause a panic or put a slow-acting poison in the wine or something. The kitchen, you heard? We need a guard on the back door then. No one should be coming or going through there except employees so it won't matter if you don't know Old Korvosa from Aroden; just stop anyone you don't recognize," he tells Daynadrian. "At the front door, our best bet is to try to persuade Croat's boys at least to warn us if they see Zincher's men coming, even if they won't get involved. In here, it's business as usual; if the customers suspect we're expecting trouble, they'll get nervous and leave, and that'll ruin us as surely as an actual brawl. Tendal, lad, any ideas?"
Sarien pulls two blue chips from those he's purchased and places them on the table. "I think I'll ease my way into the waters for now.
"Who are you working for, what are your instructions and how much are you being paid? Tell me true and you'll walk out of here unharmed. Play me for the fool and you may never walk again."
Sarien pulls two blue chips from those he's purchased and places them on the table. "I think I'll ease my way into the waters for now.
The man nods Sarien to a tray containing two icosahedrons with tiny numbers carved on their triangular facets. He takes his place at the table with several other gamblers standing in front of their own trays and bets. "Roll your first die, gentlemen!" the dealer instructs. "One and twenty are the lucky numbers!"
Nodding along with Saul's plan, Dayn answers "Makes sense, but I'll let you speak to you Croat's boys, as I'm sure your word, with your gold behind it, will go a lot further than mine would. I'll guard the kitchen door and keep an eye on things in there."
Pausing, as something occurs to him based on what Laur said, he adds "Do you think any of Shorafa's people could already be in the kitchen? But regardless, I'll stop anyone from going in or out, and keep an eye on those already there. We should also let the rest of your security know what's up, and to keep their eyes on the front for when trouble does arrive. By the way, do you have a lock and key for the backdoor Saul?"
As he waits for an answer, Dayn also glances sideways at the dandy, curious as to if he'll actually have something useful to contribute.
"Honestly, no. I was thinking along much the same lines as you. I think that I can take a quick look around the room to see if anybody has brought anything arcane to the party, then make my way outside to get a breath of fresh air."
Cups of wine in each hand Tendal saluted Saul and left the bar, making a quick beeline for Liry at the central table. Tendal stands aside for a few moments watching, then when she has a momentary pause in her work, he slides forward and presses the watered wine into her hand.
"Its watered down. Just something to keep you going." Then he leans forward to whisper in her ear, "Liry, we expect that Zincher may cause trouble tonight. Keep your eyes open and wits sharp." As he steps away he says, "Don't drink it too fast though." and sketches a quick salute before making a beeline for the wall near the cashier's cage.
His back to the crowd, Tendal places index finger and thumb over his eyes, "Conspectu." he says. Then, taking his hand away his eyes are lit by a dim blue glow.
Tendal quickly scans the room, looking for anything untoward among the guests. Every so often he repositions himself along the perimeter to scan a new part of the room.
Braddon circles carefully and tries to hear anything else from where the kick came from.
"Do you think any of Shorafa's people could already be in the kitchen? But regardless, I'll stop anyone from going in or out, and keep an eye on those already there. We should also let the rest of your security know what's up, and to keep their eyes on the front for when trouble does arrive. By the way, do you have a lock and key for the backdoor Saul?"
Saul riffles through his key ring. "Larur has a copy in his office, too. Suppose it's a good idea that you're able to lock the door if you see trouble headed in that way." He hands over the key and reflects a moment as he rubs the back of his neck. "Only person in that kitchen I don't know where their loyalties lie," he frowns, "is the red-headed Varisian half-elf your friends vouched for this afternoon." He gives Daynadrian a hard look. "She certainly looks like the type who'd be working for Shorafa. How much do you actually know about her?"
Braddon sheathes his sword and waits for the human to scurry out. When he does, Braddon takes the red chip left in Desna's hand, flips it in the air and then pockets it before walking calmly outside to join Malkith.
"Probably a false alarm. Let's hope they all are."
"Haven't seen you around the skiffs table before. New in town?" Phillip notices this halfling doesn't share Lalie's servant-class accent.
Phillip looks the halfing dead on so that he can see his eyes, while keeping up a partial facade "Oh aye, just arrived from the country I have... met a pretty lass with horns who said it'd be fun tonight, so I came I did" fishing out another set of chips for the next game.
This game Phillip sets himself to following the halfing's strategy as best he can manage - maximising the payout for his chosen winner.
Profession (Gambling):
Chuckling good naturedly at the antics and comments of the Gnome Dayn smiles and replies
"Well, with a recommendation like, Natinilinus, how can I not try the griddlecake? I am Dayn, new to this fine town, and it is a pleasure to meet you and your boon companion Sludge."
The gnome nods with dignity, sits down in his chair, and returns to his meal.
A little later, listening to Quinta, he replies "Mistress Crispen, I would like nothing better than to hear from a master storyteller such as yourself the tale of Saul, Cleg and Lil Scarlet."
"Well," she begins, her eyes sparkling, "Lil Scarlet's a tiefling girl, works for Shorafa Pamodae at the temple of Calistria, doing ... well, what girls usually do around a temple of Calistria," she finishes a little primly. "Only it seems Saul's son Orik took her attentions a little too seriously. Exactly what was going on I don't know. There's some that say Lil was using love potions on her clients to get more money out of them, and there's others that claim Orik tried to use a love potion on Lil to get her to drop her other men; some say there weren't any love potions involved at all, just Orik thought that if his father hadn't lost his position in town he could have Lil to himself for the asking. Anyway, one night up in the Free Coin District, he and Falk Zincher got into a fight. Falk was another of Lil's clients and an apothecary -- maybe that's where the story about the love potion came from. I'm sure they'd both been drinking, and the old Zincher-Vankaskerkin grudges couldn't have helped, either. They got kicked out of the casino, and one thing led to another, and steel was drawn. Well, Orik was always good with a blade, and Falk, being used to standing behind a counter, didn't have a chance. Seeing Cleg Zincher's brother bleeding out in the street sobered Orik up in a hurry. He knew Cleg would hear the news within minutes, and he took off running. There's some say Cleg's boys caught up to him before he got across the river; others say his father helped him sneak out of town, although Saul's always denied seeing him since he left to go to the casino that night. Didn't hurt Lil's business any; now she's known as the woman men have killed for," the woman sniffs disapprovingly. "All in all," she says a little more loudly, "it's a fine example of why it's a bad idea for men to get caught up with that kind of woman." Her husband at the bar overhears the words obviously meant for his benefit and rolls his eyes.
Phillip looks the halfing dead on so that he can see his eyes, while keeping up a partial facade "Oh aye, just arrived from the country I have... met a pretty lass with horns who said it'd be fun tonight, so I came I did" fishing out another set of chips for the next game.
"Farm boy, are you?" the other halfling smirks. "You play skiffs for money in the country?"
The storm deals Phillip a fine set of skiffs this time around; it's tempting to make the most of it and go for the win, but he sticks to his strategy and uses his superior lay for the benefit of an apple-cheeked female halfling, her hair done up in braids. "Well played, Ethel," the man across the lake congratulates her, but her smile is for Phillip, recognizing his contribution to her success.
Cups of wine in each hand Tendal saluted Saul and left the bar, making a quick beeline for Liry at the central table. Tendal stands aside for a few moments watching, then when she has a momentary pause in her work, he slides forward and presses the watered wine into her hand.
"Its watered down. Just something to keep you going." Then he leans forward to whisper in her ear, "Liry, we expect that Zincher may cause trouble tonight. Keep your eyes open and wits sharp." As he steps away he says, "Don't drink it too fast though." and sketches a quick salute before making a beeline for the wall near the cashier's cage.
His back to the crowd, Tendal places index finger and thumb over his eyes, "Conspectu." he says. Then, taking his hand away his eyes are lit by a dim blue glow.
Tendal quickly scans the room, looking for anything untoward among the guests. Every so often he repositions himself along the perimeter to scan a new part of the room.
Liry seems both surprised and pleased by the attention and the drink, and she offers a wink in reply to Tendal's advice and instructions. It takes a frustratingly long time to perform what he hopes is a complete scan of the crowd, and even then he can't be sure he got a good look at everyone, as so many of the customers keep moving from one place to another. He detects only about a half dozen faint auras in the room, all of them attached to weapons at some of the more prominent men's belts; he notes that Saul himself is carrying a magic blade which is largely concealed beneath his coat.
As he heads through the front doors, Gord the half-orc recognizes him and speaks up, "Hey, it's Magnimar! Not leaving already, are you, Magnimar?"
"No, just stepping outside for a breath of fresh air. Its a real party in there. No need to go anywhere yet." Tendal says, stepping to the side of the entranceway and leaning against the doorframe.
"I think that things are going swimmingly in there. Its always good getting in at the ground floor of a new organization." Tendal says as he scans the perimeter of the casino.
Phillip shrugs his shoulders as Ethel departs... though gives her a wry wink. To his chosen target Phillip responds "Oh no... never for money... pigs sometimes, but mostly chickens." guffawing while giving the halfling a knowing look. "What about you? Didja play with your Da too?" rocking back on his heels a moment while the dealer sets up for the next storm.
The courtyard of the Gold Goblin in shrouded in shadow -- a few strategically-placed lampposts might be a prudent investment, Tendal notes -- but his ability to detect magic isn't impeded by the gloom. He notes no auras within range at the front of the building. The street beyond is reasonably well-lit by street lamps, and a few passersby are drawn in to the casino by the warm light spilling out the open doors and the sounds of the crowd. He smells before he sees or hears the approach of the tanner's mistress Desiree in her cloud of perfume. "Oh, Mr. Deverin!" she exclaims, as she comes out onto the veranda and spies him. "Don't let me intrude. Are you waiting for someone?"
Phillip shrugs his shoulders as Ethel departs... though gives her a wry wink. To his chosen target Phillip responds "Oh no... never for money... pigs sometimes, but mostly chickens." guffawing while giving the halfling a knowing look. "What about you? Didja play with your Da too?" rocking back on his heels a moment while the dealer sets up for the next storm.
Ethel leaves the table with a giggling knot of friends she's promised drinks to with her winnings. She returns Phil's wink with a smile and a flounce of her skirts as she heads toward the bar, and the other halfling has a harder look in his eye when he turns back toward Phillip. "Afraid not," he replies, stretching his lips into something approximating a smile. "Never knew him. But where are my manners? I'm Marce Washburn." He reaches across the lake to offer Phil a handshake that feels more like a warning than a welcome.
Accepting the handshake Phillip responds "Phillip... though my friends call me Phil. Manners are hard, especially when you're new in town and not wantin to offend..." re-taking his seat after the handshake slowly and carefully.
Bluff:
Sarien takes the die in hand, rolls it loosely in his palm and then tosses it onto the table.
He decides not to double his stake for now but watches the results of the other players with interest.
Gods...its like she was dipped in an grave of flowers. I think an entire rose garden died for this woman. he thinks, letting the spell die before turning to look at her.
"Evening my lady. Of course I am not leaving. I am simply sampling the evening air. You know that I have just arrived here in Riddleport. Well I am sampling the mood of the city at night."