"You want advice, we here in the Marble District talk with Chelish accents, not common Varisian. But he's too drunk to know or care. And best be prepared to spend a lot of time on your back and stomach. He has some ... strange appetites if rumors are true. But don't worry, you might land him in a few years if you keep hanging around."
Ioana points to the Handmaiden who has entered the room from the Smoking Room. She saunters up to Zakon and pulls him close. Whispering into his ear, his eyes go wide as he nods along with whatever she is saying. She grabs his wrist and pulls him out the door of the Dance Party and into the Smoking Room.
"Looks like our answers may be in the other room..." she says in a low whisper. Keeping her eyes busy and moving around the room, she is careful not to stare for to long at any one thing, lest she raise suspicions. Her stride is measured, but purposeful as she walks through the doorway into the cloud of hazy smoke that hangs from the ceiling. She quickly scans the room, suddenly worried that Ioana's hinting about Zakon's strange appetites might have been the reason for his quick departure with the handmaiden, and not wanting to lose them. As has become their routine, She leans in to whisper to Captain Reginald, activating the message spell once again.
In the ears of the other three mercenaries, the soft, feminine version of Benaiah's voice cuts through in a whisper. "We've found the handmaiden. She just whispered something to Zakon Vanderales, and the two ran off like they were going to do something naughty. Keep your eyes peeled Malgrim, they could be heading your way."
Captain Reginald whispers back, "To be honest, I have absolutely no idea what to do next, other than stick around and listen in on things. I may try the gambling hall to see who I can see. It's much more my forte than dancing."
If there are no objections, Captain Reginald Romsky pats his purse to check that he has enough gold for a flirtation with the gambling tables and then moves on to that part of the villa.
As they scan the room, the notice some patrons are smoking from water-filled hookas, while some are smoking substances wrapped in different papers, while others are snorting powders. Once again liveried servants line the circumference of the room bearing silver trays with bowls. The bowls are filled with an assortment of contents, ranging from powders, to dried plants.
They can see the handmaiden and Zakon resting lazily on a heap of pillows, while Zakon draws on a large hooka.
However, it is the center of the room that has the assimar's attention. A small man at the center is scribbling furiously on a slate while people all around him shout and point. Quickly asking the first person he sees, the guest responds, "Hello and welcome. Haven't seen you before. Well just so you know, this is going to be an epic night. Normally we wait a few weeks for the Golem Battles at the Serpent's Run, but someone sneaked two in. You can take a look at them. That one over there, he is a 7 to 1 shot, and that one over there, its a 5 to 2 favorite. Guy in the middle taking all the bets is Corrous Kaddren. One of the many Kaddrens that is a better than average wizard. Rumor has it its his golems, but you will never get them highborns to admit it."
With that the man walks off looking for a place to lighten his wallet. Of note, Arimar also spies the dwarf Balastar et Mindurian, from the Dancing Room, placing bets on the upcoming golem fight.
"Let's sit close and see what we can overhear." she whispers to the diminutive musician.
Raising her hand and stopping a servant as he walks by, 'Aiah speaks up. "Tell me, what do you have in the hookas? I am catching a wiff of Desna's Despoiled Flower. Can you set us up just over here? These pillows here look plush..." 'Aiah begins to lounge against a set of pillows with her back to Zakon and the handmaiden. She motions for Gwen to sit down, and begins mumbling about the eye-candy in the room, all the while keeping her ears tuned to the conversation behind her.
If only we can catch something to clue us in to their intentions...
As Aiah walks up to a servant, the servant gives a head bow. "Ma'am. We can procure any item you wish, but I am told the Pesh is particularly potent tonight. I am happy to bring you whatever you wish." The servant walks them over to where they requested and sets up the hooka.
"Please enjoy, and let us know if you need anything else/"
Straining their ears, they can overhear snippets of the conversation.
Handmaiden "... come on. You know its yours ..."
Zakon " ... not telling."
Handmaiden " ... not me, then ...."
Zakon " ... from Kapesh ...."
Handmaiden " ... so much money. How 'bout you buy me .... "
Zakon " .... worth it ..."
[ooc]What is the lighting like? Is there any indication that any of the rooms / hallway are occupied?
Malgrim creeps quietly into the hallway, pressing himself against the wall to minimize his profile and the sounds of his footsteps on the floor. Efficiently he seeks out signs of occupancy from the outside of each of the doors before moving to the turn in the hallway, listening for potential patrols or problems. If satisfied there is no audible indication of guards, he crans his head around for a quick look at both sides, pausing his further intrusions for a response from Gwen.
As a passing servant crosses the room before 'Aiah and herself, Gwendolyn waves them closer with kind a plea and warm smile. "Excuse me... Sorry to flag you down like that... could you help us?"
"My friend, here," Gwendolyn motions to 'Aiah. "Would like to try the pesh, please. Is this something you could help with?"
...
"Me... oh, no... I'm fine. Thank you, though. We'll just take the one serving, please. For my friend," Gwendolyn turns to her companion just as the server leaves to collect the pesh.
"I'm sure it won't even affect you, right?" she questions with a laugh, pulling up the worn case and opening it to reveal her violin. "With as many chemicals as you've mentioned drinking, I bet you've built up a tolerance..."
Leaning in a close to her female companion, Gwen adds in a whisper that only Benaiah can hear, "It's just for show, anyway. We have to look the part if we're going to sit so close to our friends..."
Leaning back now, Gwendolyn lifts her violin and pinches its body gently beneath her jaw. With one arm she pulls the reed across the strings, releasing an brilliant, haunting note into the air.
-------------------
The halfling's voice suddenly peels into the collective ears of the group, quiet and hushed, though infused with a backdrop of dark and seductive notes from a violin. "No guards inside the building... yet. There are servants all over, but no guards," the group hears Gwendolyn's whisper as if she were inside their own heads, still each word is punctuated by the pleasing song of the violin strings.
"Like Benaiah said, we've located the handmaiden. She and Zakon Vanderales are sitting together, sharing a hooka. The handmiaden is trying to draw information out of him, but we're a few feet away from the pair, so we can't catch everything they are saying," the halfling's disembodied voice ends its explanation though the thin, veiled song rings for a few additional moments before fading to silence.
"That Zakon Vanderales is a handsome devil, to be sure," she says to 'Aiah, still releasing the haunting melody into the air. "He has kind of a Lockwood type of vibe going on..."
Adding with a laugh. "I'm actually not even sure what that means, apparently it's a saying here in Magnimar..."
Captain Reginald Romsky approaches Balastar et Mindurian after he just laid a bet down on the favorite.
"Definitely looks mean, that one," the captain smiles, "But sometimes the odd-balls win, like the golem with the masks all over it there. I've seen some stuff at a dwarven monastery in Tar Kuata that you wouldn't believe...
"... anyway, I digress. If you like the favorite, fine, but what if I had a way to guarantee you'd win, but at 5 to 1 instead of 5 to 2? Not as much return, but guaranteed - so long as those odds remain the same. If you had enough money, you could double your bet and guarantee the original return. Risk free. Interested? If so, just let me know how much you bet on the favorite, and I'll let you know how much guarantees you a win."
After the brief introduction, "Mason. By birth and trade. Adopted into the Mindurian family. No greater house. I don't care what those other houses claim."
The dwarf licks his lips before answering, "So you can guarantee a win. Boy, been around these fights for years. Lots of popinjays think they have sure bets, but i have found them to only win at being braggarts and con men. You gotta give me a bit more information on how you can do what you claim. But if you do, well I 'd bet the whole thing." he holds up a small cinched sack. The fine captain can hear the clinking of many coins as he bounces it up and down.
Captain Reginald Romsky smiles broadly. The dwarf has shown interest, time for a win and to make a new friend.
"It seems the wizard who owns these golems is an experienced crafter of combatants," Reginald notes, "But has yet to figure out how to craft the odds for a one-on-one battle rather than a larger melee. You see, in one on one, the true odds are always balanced. 5 to 1 for one competitor means it must be 1 to 5 for the other. You want to adjust your given odds to be lower than that, so you can make a profit - or charge a betting fee. So, in that example, you should give 6 to 1 for the first competitor, and 1 to 4 for the other. That way, as a book keeper, you make money in the long run over a number of bouts.
"What our friend has done here," the captain tries to maintain the dwarf's interest, "Is gone the other way on the odds. He's given us an edge if we bet on both. Say we bet 50 gold on the 5 to 2, and 10 gold on the 1 to 7, betting 60 gold total. If the first wins, we get 5 to 2 and take back 70 gold from our investment. If the 1 to 7 wins, we take back 80 gold from our investment. 60 gold, guaranteed win, either 10 or 20 gold depending on which golem wins.
"Trouble is, you can't just place a bet on both, or he'll be tipped off. One of us needs to bet on the one, the other of us needs to bet on that one's opponent. You seem to have more cash to gamble than I do, so you should keep betting on the favorite. Care for a guaranteed 20% return?" The captain smiles at his assessment of the situation.
Balastar et Mindurian looks aghast at the fine Captain. He takes out a small leather bound journal and a charcoal pencil. He quickly scribbles some numbers on his page. "By The First Vault. You're right!" he pumps the fine captain's hand. "How much should I bet?" He loosens the drawstrings on his sack and the fine captain can see that the majority of the coins in his sack are copper and silver rather than gold like the other patrons are throwing around like chaff in the wind.
The room is easily three times as big as the one he just left. The furniture is huge and beautiful. Woven rugs line the floor and tapestries cover the stone walls. Spying two wardrobes, Malgrim opens then to spy their contents. Finding nothing by evening wear, he quickly looks through the assorted chests and finds minor valuables, books, jewelry, that sort of thing.
He once again listens for any signs of movement from the hallway. Again hearing nothing, he turns the knob and pads to the other side of the hallway. He opens the door and moves into some sort of storage room. Dresses are flung over mismatched furniture which is littered through the room with no semblance of order. On a table in the corner rest a variety of weapons that start with the letter 'S', sap, sickle, starknife, and some throwing daggers. There are a few chests on the floor; two are locked one is unlocked. Opening the unlocked chest Malgrim is filled with papers.
Exiting that room, he moves on to the last room. Once again no sounds are coming from the other side of the door so he turns the knob and enters. As he walks in, he sees a plush couch and rug on one side of the room and a bookcase and writing desk on the other. The bookcase is filled from bottom to top with various books in various bindings. On the writing desk are a scattering of blank parchments and writing utensils, along with cooled sealing wax.
"Well," Reginald takes a note of the amount the dwarf has and rubs his chin, ""Best save some just in case the book maker goes bankrupt, but I have two hundred gold I can bet. I'd say keep enough for two week's meals and bet the rest! We'll make sure we bet five times as much on the favorite as the underdog, and we'll split the profits!"
There is wealth of knowledge to be had... somewhere
Moving to a curtained window, Malgrim pulls the curtain back to let in some moonlight. As he thumbs through the papers, he can read that many of them are shipping manifestos from various Avistan traders and House Vanderale.
As Reginald takes the gambling stub, he looks up to see the room being sealed off. His first thought is that they were there to inform the book keeper of the erroneous odds. However, he soon realizes that they are more interested in containment than correction.
"Make sure you collect our winnings, whichever golem wins," notes Captain Romsky, trusting the dwarf with the stub. That should give you a reason to come find me after all this is over... and a reason to stay, if you have a winning ticket on you regardless. "I'm going to see if my friends are okay in the next room. I'll be back as soon as this blows over - to watch the fight!
"I trust you for some reason, but should you have cause to break that trust... know that it will be far easier for me to find you than the other way around," the captains typically beaming face grows severe as he delivers the warning, before cheering up significantly, "But I assume that will not be a problem. You seem a very trustworthy sort! 'Balastar', wasn't it?"
With that, Captain Reginald Romsky follows the majordomo, Dalton, into the next room.
"Where are you?" comes the whispering of Captain Reginald Romsky over the message spell.
The halfling rolls back upon the cushions littered around the hooka, her eyes opening wide with a questioning glare. Her fingers still move up and down the thin neck of the violin, while her opposite arm continues to drag and push the reed across the strings, releasing a dark melody into the air. As the message spell activates, and her ears perceive the whisper of Dalton, Gwendolyn strains to maintain composure.
Leaning in close to 'Aiah, the halfling parts her lips and prepares to activate the whisper spell herself, hoping to cover her actions by feigning to whisper to the close-sitting companion. I need to alert everyone as to what's is going on... why are the guards here so suddenly... and who are they looking for... she questions to herself.
Then Gwendolyn pasuses, her face still pressed almost romantically close to her companion, but she does not speak. She cannot help but wonder and question what is happening, and cannot shake the feeling that activating the spell may alert Dalton and his men. But she also cannot help the growing concern for her companions, if she were to remain silent.
Screw this... she thinks, scrunching her face into a scowl. I cannot remain silent if it puts the others in danger...
Throwing caution to the wind, Gwendolyn begins whispering, which in turn activates the spell...
"..." comes back silence over the message spell.
You coward... she criticizes herself after loosing her courage, then she leans back and looks wild-eyed at Benaiah is disguise.
Mistress Lanvi clutches her skirt in two hands, pulling the hem up slightly as not to brush the dusty road. She looks up from the road to the Temple of Sarenrae.
What a paltry temple to a paltry goddess. I can’t wait to get this over with. she muses in her head as she approaches the wide open double doors. The sounds of supplicants singing praise in high, clear voices greets her as she crosses the threshold. Releasing her hem, she tugs gently at her bodice exposing a half-inch more of her already ample cleavage.
A tonsured brother approaches her, Welcome to the Temple of Sarenrae. What can we assist you with today.” he intones as he tries his best to keep his eyes on eye level and not her large, exposed bosom.
”I wish to speak with your mistre … head priestess here. Tell her Mistress Lanvi wishes an audience on a most important matter.” With that the brother scurries off. He returns a moment later and says, ”Mistress. If you would follow me. Khania, the head priestess here will see you.”
Head held high, Mistress Lanvi follows the brother to a set of staircases before finally entering Khania’s sitting room. Taking a seat on a pillowed couch, she crosses her ankles, hands folded in her lap, and patiently waits for Khania’s arrival.
Thrusting open the door, Khania’s smile is immediately wiped off her face as she stares at Mistress Lanvi’s breasts practically hanging out of her dress, and the large slit in her dress that exposes almost her entire thigh.
Oh my! Why would she dress like that to come here?.
Unconsciously pulling her woven tunic up, she returns the smile to her face and greets her guest. ”Peace. Welcome Mistress Lanvi. I am Khania, head priestess at this Temple of Sarenrae. Can I offer you some date bars? Sister Bahija harvested them just the other day. They are so chewy and … not interested? Well what can the Temple of Sarenrae do for you?”
Mistress Lanvi snorts in derision. ”I come representing mutual acquaintances we share. Acquaintances isn’t really the word that applies to my association with them; rather, your association. It seems that you have meet my business partners, Arimar, Benaiah, Malgrim, and the newly recruited Gwendolyn. And I am lead to believe that my late employee Keoki still resides on these grounds in one fashion or another. Correct?”
Blushing fiercely, Khania responds. ”Well yes, I am acquainted with them, though I confess I have not yet met this Gwendolyn yet. But I can assure you that they are more than acquaintances of mine, particularly Arimar. And Keoki is here, interned for the time being. But I am sure that you are not here to explore my social relationships, though I am sure they are not as exciting as yours. As I asked before, what can the Temple of Sarenrae do for you?” she ends unable to keep the sharpness off her tongue.
Ignoring the jab, Mistress Lanvi continues. ”You see I care deeply for these men, and now Gwendolyn. I initially hired them.” she begins a coughing fit, wracking her body. She pulls a handkerchief which she dabs at her mouth, coming away spotted with bloody spittle.
Khania races over to her, placing her hands on her back. ”Sweet Dawnflower, please use me to heal this woman, to ease her pain, to cure her sickness. Let your healing magics flow forth.” Khania prays in a bold voice. The healing power of her deity floods the room, engulfing Mistress Lanvi in positive energy.
”Get off me! Now!” Mistress Lanvi cries, righting herself. ”You don’t think I tried that already. I have been to every … no you will not bait me.” tears forming at the corner of her eyes, she flashes an angry glare at Khania.
”But … I … you don’t understand. Here in the Temple of Sarenrae we heal all who are sick. All who are tired can find rest ..”
”Shove your platitudes up your ass. I need to be cured, and you are not powerful enough to do it. Which brings me to my original point. Your acquaintances, they are in my employment. Legal agreements. They do not have the authority to work for you on your quest to rebuild this fountain. You need to make arrangements with me.”
”Are we in Cheliax where slaves are bought and sold? I understood them to be freemen, allowed to think for themselves. If they wish to aid the Dawnflower rather than be subservient to a whor … you than that is their prerogative.” she ends angrily. ”I am sorry, that was out of line. I did not mean to ..”
”Call me what every man has called me since I turned 14 and what every woman whispers behind my back? Save your hollow apologies for someone who needs it and cares. Right now I only care about curing this cough this … this disease. My men and Gwendolyn will perform this service for you, rebuild this fountain, restore its waters and place you on the map of Golarion as the healing capitol of the world. For a price. Keoki is first in. Then me. No exceptions. Or the deal is off, and I hire a troop of Hellkinghts to level this place.”
At first taken aback by Mistress Lanvi’s tale of sorrow, she begins to bristle at the demanding tone. ”Do you really think to come in here, to the Temple of Sarenrae, and threaten me? Wrong approach. That is not how it is done here. But I understand that Arimar and his friends have an obligation to you. And I will see them honor it. I agree, Keoki should be the first in. He has nothing to lose, and it will tell us if the fountain is restored or not. But you second, you will have to pay a bigger price than merely allowing Arimar and his friends to quest to rebuild the fountain. And you will find that even though I don’t flaunt my femininity, and speak with a brash, vulgar tongue, I am every bit a tough as adamantite from Starfall. So terms, Mistress Lanvi.”
Walking through the open doors of the Temple of Sarenrae, Mistress Lanvi smiles like a cat licking a bowl of cream. That went better than I expected.
Slumping on the couch of her sitting room, Khania exhales sharply before reaching over to the side table and pouring herself a glass of chilled wine. Drinking deeply, she sloshes the wine around. What a difficult woman, but she has a smart head on her shoulders. I almost feel sorry for what she has given up. Too bad she doesn’t even know it.
I have done well in appointing that one to my temple in Magnimar, the goddess muses on her way to meet the Pallid Princess, I just hope I have chosen as well in relying on Abadar to adjudicate this whole thing.
With his bet and the dwarf's bet placed, Reginald doesn't worry overly much that he is restricted to this room. He simply smiles at the guard, shrugs and returns to the fight.
"At least it seems they're willing to let the entertainment continue," Romsky informs the dwarf as he rejoins him, "Can't say I'm too disappointed. Now hand me that stub and tell me who you think will really win. I personally think the underdog with the strange masks. There's something interesting about it, and I doubt many will back him. Probably why the proprietor wasn't so worried about the odds! If you can't bank on the opponent, bank on the book maker knowing how to cash in. In such cases, bet against the crowd!!!"
"The guards have us penned down. They won't let me into the other room, you're on your own boys," Captain Reginald notes when he's sure no one is paying attention.
"Any idea what's going on with the red flag and those guards. I rarely get to come to these things. Oh wait, its about to start."
The man commands the spectators to clear the ring, and the golem to opposite sides. All activity at all the tables stop and people even go as far as to stand on the tables to get a view.
The man in the middle screams a word unintelligible to the fine captain and dwarf, and the golems roar to life.
Taking a step forward, the techno golem lashes out with all its four claws.
"I'm sure you've done it right," Captain Reginald Romsky reassures the dwarf, not looking at the tickets, "No idea what those red flags are all about, I'm assuming something has gone wrong and they're detaining everyone until it's sorted out. Perhaps an intruder of some kind." The captain tries hard not to let his worry show. No response from Gwendolyn, this could be very bad... but with those guards there, there's little I can do for now, and it may be nothing to do with us. Don't blow the mission.
"Do you know anything about what's going on here? Here of any shady dealings?" the captain asks casually, "Other than our mutual profits from these most fortunate of odds, that is!" Reginald claps Balastar on the shoulder.
"Oh, the fight's starting!" the captain notes leans in with the cheering crowd to see the spectacle.
The smaller golem with masks all over it barely notices as the larger one pounds into it with all four claws. Perhaps if it had a central nervous system its pain might show. The thing draws out its massive adamantine greatsword and performs a few maneuvers of its own.
"Ooh, that doesn't look good," Romsky notes, "The Underdog didn't get the first blow in. Often times, in these one-on-one match ups, acting first is crucial," he sighs before leaning in close, "Well, we win either way. So... about those shady dealings, any ideas?"
"Gwen, Aiah, Malgrim... are you guys okay?"
Turning back to the match, the dwarf is enraptured by the huge sword that carves into the techo golem.
Fluids spill all over the floor while the techno golem once again claws into the shield golem.
Only half of the claws are able to do any damage, knocking an errant shield to the crowd. A well-dressed man picks it up and hands it to the cute girl next to him as she giggles.