Sam takes the goggles anyways, placing them on her forehead before the rest of the train's survivors can get out. The gambler is rather dismayed at the state of her deck - there's no way to play with them anymore, so she'll have to see about buying a new one in the city. For the moment, she stripped everything of value from the dead goblins and tallied up the approximate amount of money it was all worth, stuffing it all into a sack and handing it off to Oswin - including the bundle of defused dynamite.
The gunslinger was quite happy to be rewarded with free food and drink for stopping the goblins before they could do further damage - there were a few nagging questions lingering in the back of her mind, though. Like where the goblins had come from and gotten on the train. Robbing it wasn't smart, but it still stunk of planning, so somebody must have been pulling the strings.
Sam exits with the rest of them when they hit the city, almost immediately stopped by an inspector. "Woah, hold the phone, inspector. First I'd like to see your badge - no offense, but you wouldn't believe how many people attempt to disguise themselves as a official. Secondly, we've only got a paltry knowledge of what happened there. Goblins blew the car couplings and took off the end of it - somehow they'd gotten their hands on black powder explosives. There were about seven of them, but we killed them - unfortunately not fast enough to save a few unlucky souls."
"Anything else you want to know, Inspector? If not, I'd like to be on my merry way," The boyish figure told them as they looked up, wrapping the scarf around her neck.
Klimt flashes a sneer at Sam, he then produces a silver barbed pentagram from his grey jacket, his name etched in the center of it. "Of course, you can't trust anyone nowadays. So do you have evidence of this black powder the goblins used? You seem to be carrying a bit more than luggage for an ordinary traveler."
"Here," Sam tosses the inspector the powder horn raided from the gunslinger goblin, before gesturing to Oswin and rummaging in the sack. "We've also got this bundle of blasting sticks," she tells him, holding it up. "Damn near burned my hand off trying to yank out the fuse. They were going to blow off another car it seemed," The gambler comments.
"We've also got all their gear and stuff, but if you happen to want to take it in as evidence...well, as the heroes of the day, a small reward for our efforts won't hurt a bit, will it? Perhaps just the reimbursement for our tickets...fifty gold or so each?"
Kisako grabs his bag, making sure to clean off his katana with the rag before sheathing it and sticking it back across his back. Exiting the train alongside the other train defenders, he takes note of the "inspector" and further note of his pentagram identification.
He wishes he knew more about it, because the pentagram means nothing to him. If only he knew what laws he was supposed to be following, it would make Kisako's life much, much easier.
"Maybe there is a bounty out for those creatures? Maybe the danger we went through is recognized?"
Klimt harrumphs and takes the black powder horn and the bundle of explosives. He examines them for a moment before looking at Sam again. "These will do for evidence. Go ahead and take what you found as a reward."
He turns on his heels and takes a step forward. "If you want to see about employment, I would suggest starting in Purgatorio...or see what the city offers that appeals to you. Have a good day."
He makes a dismissive gesture to a small stand next to the map that seems to be teeming with brochures. He stalks off into the crowd.
"Unlike the other hero, I do not really wish for a reward for helping the train. Thanks is enough for me. Though they did do a good job." He says as the others go on about a reward.
"Hmm. Well, least he gave a little free advice," Sam shrugged - it wasn't like they lost anything from that after all. "Might as well head for Purgatorio like he said," The gambler mutters, glancing at the map to get a heading. "Ozzie, we're going. You two," She gestures to Kisako and Cyean, "If you want to split the proceeds from selling off all this loot, come with us. Heck, maybe we can even find work as a group. I'm sure somebody will want to hire a smart and savvy gunslinger and his friends."
Sam heads in the direction of Purgatorio, looking on the way for a shop where they can sell off the extra loot.
Sam walks into Purgatorio, passing underneath the grand archway leading from the Cathedral District. She finds a promising shop called "Halbert's Junk and Trade" tucked in an alleyway.
Cyean follows along so he may gain some funds for his stay in the city.
Sam wanders swiftly into Halbert's, dumping the goods on the counter, and after a brief amount of haggling, comes out carrying four identical coin pouches, tossing one to each of the taller men. "Well, there you go. Not much, but should tide you at an inn for a few days if you're frugal. My offer to work together is still on the table though, if you guys want to find a place to stay together," She tells them.
Once everyone has decided to stick around or head off on their own, Sam will start looking for a decent but cheap inn to serve as a place to stay in this city.
"His...?" Kisako mutters as he follows after Sam. He doesn't care about the money, but he does need something to do...and maybe this "smart and savvy gunslinger" can help him about what would appear to be his new home.
After some asking around, Sam hears of an motel called The Handsome Devil on the west end of Purgatorio.
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"The Handsome Devil, huh? Sounds like my kind of place," Sam comments with a grin, heading for the place while continuing to keep up some conversation with the rest of the group.
"So, I'm going to take a couple of guesses as to why you two are here," She states to Kisako and Cyean - Oswin she already knew was here only to follow the agreement from their wager. "Kisako's probably wants to experience the grand technology of Coldglass to bring back to his nation, and Cyean...hmm, are you converting to Asmodeism and wanted to do it in the Cathedral?" She pondered as they reached the inn.
At the inn, Sam will take out a few silver pieces and place them on the bar. "Good afternoon. I'd like a few things. The first is a round of whiskey for me and my new friends. The second is a private room - doesn't have to be big, but a door with a lock will suffice. The third is any advice you have on finding work around these parts."
When Sam guesses why he's here, he turns his head away from her. "I would like it if we did not speak of why I am here. Thank you."
He spends the rest of his walk in comtemplative silence. Why was he here? I mean, he knew why he'd left, but why was he here? What did this land have to offer him but confusion?
If he was a real loyal subject, he would have committed seppuku upon being exiled. He should not have ran away from his home. There was no honor in that.
Upon arriving at the inn, Kisako is knocked out of his self-deprecatory reverie by Sam's offer to buy him drinks. "Whizz-key?" he asks, "What is that?"
Cyean shakes his head to Jakobs "No I am not here to convert." After answering Jakobs question he spends his time looking about the city as they walk finally when they get to a bar and Kisako asks his question he turns to him "It is a type of alcohol."
The white lacquered exterior stands out against the blacks and grays that seem to dominate this part of Purgatorio. It seems that the people who want to be forgotten teem in this area, though you do run across several guards wearing helmets crafted to look like fierce devils. The pavement is cracked as you approach the door, painted a deep ebony.
You open the door and carefully descend the stairs that lead into the lobby. The lobby is a simple affair, decorated in warm reds and oranges. The registry sits on a marble counter in front of shelves of alcohol. As you approach the counter, a blonde man with pale skin and piercing blue eyes appears.
"You're a little too young or a little too pretty to be drinking whiskey, but as you wish. I'll just assume it's the latter. We have single rooms, it'll be three gold a week due seven days from when you check in. As for jobs, you should talk to Keith in the back room," the man says taking the silver.
He points to a curtained area on the other side of the room.
As disadvantageous as it might be to them, Kisako feels an urge. He's noticed something. "Sir, maybe I give you some advice? Payment model is poor. A person can stay for six days and leave for free. Is that not so?"
"Alcohol..." he says ponderously. "I am familiar. Rice wine very popular in my home. You are very generous, Sam." he says, a smile on his face, before he takes the glass of whiskey. Taking a sip, he grimaces. "Ouch, that burns!"
The blonde man blinks slowly. "We haven't had that problem...ever."
Kisako is unsure which of his ideas might be true, but, seeing that there are a lot of people in this city, the former is probably the truth.
"Hey, I might have a baby face, but I'll be twenty four come next spring," The gunslinger replies to the bartender, taking her own whiskey glass and taking a slow sip. Not the best quality, but it certainly spread a pleasant warmth through the body. "Drinks are on me, fellas, so enjoy."
The room situation was good enough for her - three gold for a week's stay that gave her a private room was good enough for the gambler. She signs her name in the inn registry, getting a key for a room. "You have decent bathing facilities here as well?" She asks - hopefully there were private ones available.
Glancing at the back room concealed by the curtain, Sam finishes up her glass before heading back there - if somebody was looking for hires, she'd be happy to take any job - so long as it wasn't completely immoral.
The bartender arches an eyebrow at Sam, then lights a cigarette. "I really wish I knew where you people get your misconceptions."
"We aren't barbarians here, no offense, sir," he says with a glance at Oswin. "All rooms have private lavatories and showers. The water is hot thanks to our steam pumps. I would ask where you came from, but I think the answer would be more frightening than I can handle."
The small, dark back room reeks of tobacco and alcohol. There is a small couch behind a wide table with cards upon it. On the couch sits a lanky man with long brown hair wearing an eyepatch. He holds a thick cigar in one hand and he grins as Sam and Oswin enter.
"My name is Keith of Iverril. What can I do for you?" he asks, exhaling a cloud of smoke.
"I'm Sam Jacobs," the gambler tells him, doing her damnest not to cough from the exhaled smoke - her father smoked those things, at least four a day every day that he'd lived, and she had always hated the smell. "I've heard you're the person to talk to about employment opportunities. My associate and I would enjoy learning about anything available where we could make some decent coin."
Keith extinguishes his cigar and looks at Sam and Oswin intently with his good eye. "I have a rat problem that needs handling. I'll pay a hundred gold when the job's done."
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"It's only one," Keith says, off-handedly.
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"Hey, hey, hey, that's really not enough information to go by," Sam states with a frown, leaning forward against the table, the end of her scarf brushing against its edge. She stares intently at the eyepatch wearing man as she continues to speak.
"Where exactly is this job supposed to be? What kind of rats are we supposed to be exterminating? How many of them are there? What do you need for confirmation for the completion of the job? Is that a hundred gold in total or a hundred gold per person?" She wasn't sure about chopping off some rat tails as proof, but it wasn't like she didn't have someone capable of carrying them for her.
"You ask a lot of questions for a simple job," Keith notes. "Of course I'm not obligated to tell you more unless you accept. It is a hundred gold total, not per person."
Keith seems a little offended by such an idea, but doesn't say more about it.
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Kisako just kind of...wanders after Sam, curious as to what kind of "work" is available to ronin in this country.
When he proposed a hundred gold for one rat, Kisako fishes in his pocket. Pulling out a few gold pieces, he looks at them. Somewhat distractedly and spacey, he mutters, "Is maybe rat-person problem? If I accept, you will give me more information?"
The one-eyed man looks at the foreigner curiously. "New to Hannal, I take it?"
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"He's fresh off the boat, but he's also with me," Sam replied, before conceding to Keith's point. "All right, I'll take the job - a hundred gold is a hundred gold, no matter how you look at it. So, details please."
"There's a wererat named Slim Jesse lurking around Blackchapel. About a week ago, Jesse killed a couple of tourists in Purgatorio, he's been in hiding since then. We don't tolerate such lawlessness here. So, I need you to find him and kill him. All I need as proof is his gold nose ring, it has a symbol of the old god Norgorber etched on it. Whatever else you find on him is yours. I'd start looking around the tavern near the abbey. You can't miss it once you're in Blackchapel."
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"A wererat? How interesting." Is the only answer Cyean gives to the so called job. He had no problem with killing wicked people, and this Slim Jesse seems to be wicked people.
"I see, I see...it's just a bounty hunting job then. More than doable, then. I'm guessing there's no time limit on this?" She really hoped not - she needed a couple of hours to prepare some silver bullets. "We'll get him for you by tomorrow."
Sam leaves the back room, a serious look on her face as she turns to look at the others. "So yeah, wererat. It's a pain, but you might want to buy yourselves some decent silvered weapons - I'm going to my room to make some new bullets," She tells them, heading off.
"Take your time," Keith says, relighting his cigar.
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"Yeah, yeah, it's going to be a few hours before I'm finished," The gunslinger tells him, looking at the others. "So, how about we all link up in four hours, then? You guys will at least need to go and buy yourself a silver weapon." The advantage she had was that she already had some silver in her pocket to make into bullets. Those were easy, but the cartridges and black powder took a lot more time, and she didn't have them on hand.
"Try not to interrupt me unless its an emergency - black powder isn't the type of stuff you want to screw up with," She tells the group, before heading up to the private room. It was pretty nice for three gold in a week - a small four post bed, a desk and chair, and a private lavatory with shower - Desna gave her luck, but Asmodeus wasn't so bad for the indoor plumbing. She pulls off the scarf and jacket and clothing, stripping off the slightly sweaty studded leather underneath, before going to start with a quick and hot shower.
Once cleaned and in a fresh shirt and pants, the gunslinger checks her door is locked before bringing out her gunsmith's kit, placing it on the desk and sitting down as she cracked it open, starting the intensive procedure. She had more than enough materials necessary, though she'd have to replace them after they were used up.
"...can't wait until I'm rich enough to buy bullets out right..." She mutters to herself.
Kisako, lost in the jumble of negotiations and double-talk, merely leaves the back room, pays for his own room, and heads up to it, plonking his large and heavy bag of things on the floor and locking the door.
His ears flop out of the top of his head, and his face elongates. His feet grow into short pads, and he steps out of his sandals with ease. Ginger fur sprouts over his whole body.
He looks at a little bottle of shampoo, dubiously. Then thinks about what Sam had said. 'It's going to be a few hours before I'm finished', she had said. Well, he might have enough time. Turning the knob, he steps into the stream of hot water and gets to work.
Cyean goes to his room, checking over his gear. When finished he takes a sit, opening up his book to read, while he waiting for the others. When they come for him, he readies his gear, showing that he has two weapons and a shield, on top of his armor that he was wearing on the train.