Nope. I'm not trying to be evil, but I won't let you take ten on these checks. But I can give you a singular encounter on the way back to the inn as a consolation prize. :@
Ms Crimson smiles back at Cyrielle when she sees her, then hurries along to serve more customers.
No, no, well, I suppose yes, but then again, no. You see, sweet Jackie, that hasn't happened yet. We are four years BR, in this particular scenario
The innkeeper approaches the newcomers quickly, already carrying a flagon of some sort.
"May we help you?"
Help, us? Oh, yes, yes you can. We, my friend the Book of It'Dupree, and I, I am called Jacquelyn, will be needing a table tonight, and will be eavesdropping on an agent of dubious intentions. We do not drink, either of us, but I do like sweet cookies, or salty crackers, or biscuits. What will a table for the night cost us?
Jackie, sweet, sweet Jackie, how many times do I have to tell you to please, let me do the talking for the two of us. You have to forgive my large, and I have been told quite beautiful friend here, she is sweet, innocent, to a fashion, and often very formidable, but has a tendency to misspeak when she tries to explain things she doesn't understand.
Aebin raises a brow at the 'dubious intentions' comment, but Ms.Crimson is already conversing with the subject.
"One gold piece, as it comes with refills on food, drink, and admission to a concert, of sorts. As for your friends, I don't care what they look like as long as they stay out of trouble and leave their tussles outside. A room, which is a separate charge, is another gold piece. It comes with two beds and clean sheets."
She purses her lips.
[b]"I would advise you sit away from the hearth."
Davi gathers her bathing accessories and a change of clothes and dumps the lot in a basket. She heads to the till and picks out the two coppers she needs. Davi then calls to her fellow barmaid. "Hey Cyrielle, I'm going to visit that new public bath, the one on Veridian street, since we can't wash here. I should be back well before your shift ends." Davi gives everyone a wave and heads out the door.
You need to make a diplomacy check to gather information DC15 for the juicy stuff. 20 will get you even more.
"Alright, Davi! Enjoy your bath."
Cyrielle looks at the strange woman who's entered the inn scrunches her eyebrows for a few seconds, and looks at the ceiling. Now, what was Hall's performance tonight? I feel like it could be important somehow. She looks over toward the fireplace and-
"'scuse me, ma'am, but tonight could be a...dangerous night for you to be here. I think the theme is embers or sparks or something, and Hallidan usually puts on quite a show. If you absolutely must be here for the night, you should sit away from the stage. Now, could I get you and your...friend anything besides the biscuits?" And does the chef even make them?
Davi manages to get a couple of Kellish brothers (Sa'ket and Finni) to talk to her about things they have heard about in recent days. They're both quite taken with the changeling, and are eager to pepper in self-exonerations (they're excellent cobblers, it turns out) between tales.
The rumors received are as follows:
1.Three daughters of wealthy merchants have gone missing in the past week, including one names Embria Solvianno.
2. An entire tenement in Precipice Quarter fell into the sea yesterday.
3. There's a werewolf loose in the puddles.
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He rounds a corner-- and he finds it suddenly hard to breathe. His back hits the wall painfully. Only then does he notice that there is an old man standing in front of him, one hand at Hal's throat, the other holding a sword. The hand is surprisingly strong for such an owner. "What... what is this?" Hal chokes out.
The old man grins. "My master," the old man says in a deep voice that sounds not at all the way an old man's should, "would like you to know that your whoring days are over. Shailea was his wife."
Shailea? The name sounds familiar. "Who..."
"THINK harder," the old man snarls, hitting Hal's head against the wall behind him. "The woman you bedded three nights ago." The old man lets go of Hal's throat, and he drops to the ground coughing. "He also wants you to know, before you die, what sort of mistake you really made that night." The old man's skin ripples, and in a moment's time he had changed completely. The creature now standing over Hal has brown, leathery skin, long limbs, and a face with no discernible features. Whoa. Hal recognizes the breed immediately. A faceless stalker. The blood drains from his face. This is bad.
Quick as a flash, the creature plunges its sword painfully into Hal's thigh and pulls it out again. Warm blood gushes from the wound. Only Hal's reflexes pull him out of the way before the creature's fist connects with the wall where his head had been. He means to make this hurt. He wants me to die slowly. Praying to whomever might listen that it works, he speaks a short incantation followed by a magically-enhanced suggestion. "You've beaten me. Go back to your master and tell him I'm dead." If he throws off the spell, I might as well be. At the same time, he does his best to slide out of reach.
"Like hells I will." the thing growls. Luck favors Hal, though, as the creature swings out with its sword to catch him as he flees, overbalances, slips on a bit of grime underneath it and falls spectacularly to the ground. Before it has time to climb back to its feet and charge forward again, Hal speaks another incantation and vanishes.
Half a minute later, he reappears on the other side of the alley. He had magically mended his wound enough that it no longer bled and had mostly closed, but is still painful to the touch and causes him to walk with a profound limp.
Late in the afternoon, when the sun is starting to sink, Hal staggers back in the door of the Hookscratch, heavily favoring his right leg. "That's enough adventure for one day," he says, trying to smile through the pain. He winces as he sits down at the bar. Hoping to put as much distance as possible between himself and the thing, he hadn't wanted to stop and heal himself further. Only now does he take the time to speak the words again and lay a soothing hand on his injured thigh, feeling the pain wash magically away.
Davi frowns as she keeps walking. [i]Embria Solvianno...I swear I've heard that name before. Hopefully it'll come to me.
Davi enters the inn like a changeling sized whirlwind. Her hair is flying in every directions as she talks nonstop. "Hey Aebin, I hope everything's been nice and quiet? Cyrielle, promise me you'll avoid the puddles eh? There's bad stuff out there. Hal, is that blood on your pants? Stop getting yourself hurt, it's bad for you and it'll scare away the customers. Ms. S, I'd like to talk when you've got a moment, I have an idea." Davi motors straight across the inn, moving around patrons as she talks. She ducks into her room just long enough to drop off her bath stuff and adjust the rapier that always adorns her waist.
Davi spends the next couple of minutes checking the potpourri dishes around the inn, adding fresh leaves as needed. She's never sure why the potpourri goes so fast; almost like someone's stealing it. But it's an easy task and Davi hums to herself as she works.
"Wow, Hall, that's a lot of blood." Cyrielle says from the bar counter, where she's cleaning mugs. "There's always bad stuff in the Puddles, Davi. Some of my best friends are...were...bad stuff in the Puddles. Besides, I'm an adult now, Ms. Crimson said so in her note, and you signed it, so I can go where I want. Ha!" Cyrielle sticks her tongue out at the older barmaid before going back to cleaning out mugs for the night's festivities. I wonder how Ricie's doing back in the Puddles? Maybe I'll sneak out and check on him tomorrow night.
Cyrielle gets up and surreptitiously pockets a handful of potpourri, giving it a quick sniff first. Ooh, lavender today!
"Not quiet, but nobodies been injured and nothing destroyed. I count that as a good morning." He chuckles at Cyrielle. "If you're an adult I'm a speckled dragon."
"But she has come of age enough to earn the token, so she's close. Old enough to survive, at any rate."
Ms. Crimson smiles before looking to Davi. It is early evening now, and patrons filter in for the more mainstream activities. She does spare Hallidan a questioning look, though, not unlike that of a concerned schoolmaster.
"Are you still well enough to play?"
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Ah, that feels better. Looking down, he realizes the scar might be permanent. Now that his more pressing need is taken care of, he turns his attention toward the others. "No, really, everyone, your concern is quite touching. Not to worry, I won't bleed on the barstool. But I'm glad to see not a thought has been spared for how I turned out."
Hallowid stares at him in a way he can't help but imagine is somewhat bemused.
"Ah, and here I was thinking you needed the night off." the innkeeper smiles and makes her way over to Hallidan's barstool to lightly jab the side of his head with two fingers. "But if you're able to make remarks like that, it seems I was mistaken."
"I presume we should have seen the "other guy"?"
She pours a refill for a patron nearby.
"-and Davi, I am willing to listen to your request, but if you desire privacy, it will have to wait until after the face shows eleven."
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"Ow, hey." He recoils in mock pain at the poke of her fingers. "Not so hard, I was just stabbed nearly to death you know. And the other guy was quite fine, it was a faceless stalker. Some vengeful idiot sent one after me. Didn't have a chance, I didn't, I only just got away." He smiles. "And I most definitely need the night off."
Davi frowns at Cyrielle "I'm serious little one. There's a werewolf on the loose there. Best to stay away until they catch it"
Potpourri topped off, Davi makes her way over to the bar, across from Hal. Leaning on one arm, she reaches forward and pokes him in the forehead, being careful not to catch him with her claw.
"Y'know, Hal, these things wouldn't happen if you weren't either pulling nefarious scams or trying to bed everything that moves. You could live your life with a lot less, ah, stabbage."
"Silly boy's going to get himself hurt one of these days. He seems fine now, joking and all that. Any chance to get the night off...hmm, I wonder..."
Here Davi offers him a wide smile. She leans in closer"Shame that you've gotta take the night off. It's so much nicer here with your music playing. I was looking forward to the flame medley you had planned.
Smiling up at Ms. C she continues "11 would be just fine Ms. C, thank you.
"A werewolf, huh? Welllll..." Cyrielle shifts into her desert-fox form, dropping to all fours, baring her teeth at Davi and howling as menacingly as she can. "I'm a werewolf too! Rawrooooh! But if you're serious, I guess I can stay out of the Puddles for a few days..."
" Oooh! Oooh! Hal, I think she likes you. It's too bad she already lives here or you could invite her over for...whatever it is you do with all your friends. What do you do, anyways? Do you play games?" Her face changes from confusion to delight to curiosity as she tries to decipher what Davi's said and starts teasing the two of them.
Cyrielle is lying about staying away from the Puddles, and trying to cover it up with her pretend games.
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"Sheesh, what's with all the poking? And don't try to schmooze a schmoozer, doll, I'm not just another Jack Piper who'll believe anything that comes from a pretty face like yours. You'd like it just fine if I took the night off. Of course..." He jerks his head in the direction of his room. "My door would be open to you if I did." He winks.
He laughs at Cyrielle and rubs a hand on her head. "I certainly hope she does, little one," he tells her in a whisper loud enough for Davi to hear. "But don't you worry about what I do with my friends. When you come of age, ask Davi here to tell you." And if someone like me ever comes knocking at your door, he mentally adds, you stay the hells away from him. He isn't about to tell her not to go down to the Puddles like she clearly wants to, but he hopes she doesn't get herself into trouble.
Ms. Crimson sighs.
"I gave her the gift already, though... she is old enough to know about that now. There's no more shielding it."
The innkeeper serves another table, somehow always within earshot. "And I think she's better off knowing, what with all the... erm... gentlefolk in this world. So, Davi and Hall, what with her officially having come-of-age today, she'll be getting the talk."
"Well, youngun-"
Before an inebriated patron can more than utter two words, having listened in to their conversation, the woman smacks him on the head like a nun with a ruler.
"That won't be necessary, Bertram."
"Is this like the talk about how I shouldn't steal things from everyone? Or is it like the talk about why sneaking out in the early morning is wrong? Or the talk about hiding in other peoples' rooms? I got a lot of those from Mrs. Rousseau already." Cyrielle sits down on one of the barstools and looks at Ms. Crimson curiously.
"No. Whether or not you still do those things, you know whether or not you should be doing them. This is more of an explanation of a common biological practice that may or may not be the primary motivation of many a humanoid behavior."
She stops herself, realizing her speech patterns may be a little too academic.
"You have a choice, Miss Cyrielle. You can read about it from a book, or I can explain it to you tonight after I speak with Davi."
"Can't blame a girl for trying" Davi shrugs. A faint blush blossoms on her cheeks when Hal invites her to his room. She turns her head from him and starts talking to Cyrielle. "Hal likes to play games with lots of, um...friends. Very casual games. And that's um, ok, if that's what both people want. It's not the kind I want though, I play very ah, serious games that take much longer than one night. So no dear, I don't think Hal and I will be playing games tonight."
She's getting progressively redder and redder in the face as she talk. She's twisting a lock of hair around her finger over and over.
Glancing up at Ms. S she says "You're giving her the talk, I'll never get through it. With that she pushes off the counter and starts waiting tables.
"I can wait. I wanna see Hal's performance, not read a book." Cyrielle joins Davi waiting tables.
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She's of age!? Hallidan turns away when Davi leaves, suddenly very keen on preparing his lineup for tonight and not at all interested in having this talk with Cyrielle. He had only known her a short time, but he'd developed a bit of a soft spot for the precocious little vixen. Although this means she's technically fair game, he can't help but feel protective of her. Right... so, I think "Dragon's Fire" first, then "Blame the Salamanders," then "Burned By You"... You know, I think I will do "The Efreeti and the Marid"...
The silent looming shadow of Aebin is suddenly cast over Hallidan. He leans over him as if to get something from behind the bar, putting a hand on the bard's shoulder to lean on him. Hall feels a portion of the half-orcs might grip him.
Aebin leans back up, holding a large mug. "Got any tea brewing back there?" He kindly asks.
A gloved hand makes a series of gesture to indicate that no, it didn't, but it will get right to work on that.
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A cold shiver runs down Hallidan's spine. Aebin rarely says much, but Hal had always known the inn's bouncer isn't someone to trifle with. He wheels around before the half-orc can leave. "First of all," he says softly, hoping not to be overheard, trying to keep the fear and anger out of his voice, "this isn't a conversation we should be having when she might hear. Second, I know what I am but I also know what I'm not. And what I'm not is someone willing to take a person's innocence. ESPECIALLY not hers. Do you really think that low of me?" He gets down off the barstool. "I've got a show to prepare for."
"Do you really think that low of me?"
"'Course not Hal. Just thought I'd remind you of what a gentleman you can be."
"Unc' Aebin, don't hurt Hal. He's my friend, and he's always been nice to us here." Cyrielle grabs the big half-orc's hand and tries to pull him away from Hal.
"Wouldn't dream of it Cyrielle. Just like to remind him of his morals is all."
"Well, as pleasant as this has been, you still seem to be in fine spirits, Hallidan. It will be a pleasure to you see you perform, as you seem to be alright."
The innkeeper motions to the stage. Which is just as well, as the patrons are in full-force now, and as usual, the house is full.
Preoccupied (and somewhat flustered) by the thoughts of this mysterious talk, Cyrielle spills a water on one customer and forgets to deliver the biscuits to the weird string-woman and the talking book. Needless to say, it's not her best night, and she can't even find any interesting-looking adventurers to talk to, or borrow trinkets from.
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Trying to take his mind off the conversation that had just taken place, he focuses instead on the night's repertoire. He heads to his room to fetch his lute, then returns to the common area and takes the stage. He plays a few chords as a way of announcing his presence. "Gooooood evening everyone, and welcome to another night at the Hookscratch! I'm Hallidan Regg and I'll be your entertainment this evening. We've got a hot show for you tonight, let's start things off with an old favorite!" He continues strumming chords absently through his mostly-ordinary introduction, then as he begins his first song his playing becomes more purposeful and recognizable.
"Well, in a town both clean and bright
The sun was beating down
I stopped to have myself a drink
At th'only bar in town
I said, 'Hey tender, whatcha got
To quench a man's desire?'
He said, 'Our special's just the thing,
We call it Dragon's Fire!'"