Moira hears Rigo's suggestion and factors it into her answer...
"Gods I hate Ammos. He said some crud about 'if she'll have me' and whatnot that actually made me hopeful for a half second that the pisspot was deeper than he seems. I guess cesspools are deeper, too. We're not here to trick you. We're supposed to paint you for a poster, that's all. We've been held against our will fairly recently and I think I speak for all of us when I say we're inclined to sympathize with prisoners."
She frowns. "If it's ok, can we paint you and talk about your situation while we daub? It's a good cover and we can make a plan. And I kinda want to see Audria here paint something. We have some questions, too. Ever see a man with a swan tattoo around here?"
There is a flash of hope in the halflings' eyes at Moira's words about the Grasts, "You are not Ammos' friends? But you aren't from the Circus... not from back when it was Long Lucy leading us along the Sellen. Why would you join now?" ...and then, as Moira acts on Rigo's suggestion, "The man with tattoo? Uriah? He was here for a while... are you friends with him? He worked with Scarred Samuel for a while with the animals, they seemed to get on well... but we haven't seen him for a few weeks now. Maybe he moved on? Or maybe... maybe he fell out with Grast or Gride..."
The halflings, far more talkative now that Moira has built trust, contort in various poses for the posters being painted
Moira realizes she's got a lead. She shoots a Message spell at Rigo and asks him if there's anywhere anyone might be listening in on them, "Boat's small, but is it private?"
Inside, she Messages everyone and cuts to the chase, "Nope. We're undercover. We've been assigned to find Uriah Agaric, who has gone missing. He has powerful friends who want him back. If you can help us, I imagine they can help you. And I'll help you, even if you can't. Where is this Long Lucy, anyway? We've met lots of performers but nobody's introduced us to Lucy yet..."
While not the best work in the world, Audria's paintings do look more than good enough to catch the eye.
"So did he also try pinching your rump, too," she asks out loud, not really comfortable with just talking through Moira's spell.
- the boat, far enough away from the Great Tent and all of the workers there, seems to be reasonably private...
Whilst Audria does a fine job of capturing the likeness of Dandelion and her companion, Moira continues to delve into the possible lead that she may have uncovered... and finds the halflings more than will to speak against Grast, "Your friend was a nice man... we were sad when he went missing. But we weren't surprised..."
...by now Dandelion and Sedge are finishing each other's sentences - their ability to predict each other's movements, as demonstrated in the acrobatics show the previous night, seeming to extend to knowing what each other is going to say next, "Uriah is only the most recent to go missing - there were more before him. People who fall out with the Grasts just disappear..." Dandelion partially answers Moira's question, "Like Lucy... Long Lucy, our ringmaster and leader... she disappeared too", before Sedge offers wistfully, "But she's alive... I just know it... somehow, I know"
...and then Dandelion, "You can help us?"
Audria has managed to get nearly three posters completed before there is an inevitable disturbance... Ammos Grast and his companion, Gride, coming aboard, "Where is she? Where is my wonder? My Dandelion..."
The look of fear on Danadelion's face as she hears Grast is palpable.
Rigo huffs loudly as he sees Grast coming. "Ah, good, you here Grast." He says loudly in a booming voice. Then he lopes forward to the man. "Need talk, artsy ones still painting. Bad smell from paint." He waves his paw under his nose. "Anyway, need talk about cage thing other night, no want talk in front of others. You talk now, yes?" He asks, intercepting the halfling, and pulling him off the boat and off to the side. "Think there be someone targeting circus, maybe be trying to ruin it. Nothing like this happen until we start filling tent, yes? Think someone trying to hurt your performers. Maybe target acrobats next. Think we need talk about security, unless you ok with performers getting broken. Guess maybe acrobats easier to find than security?" He asks, hoping the halfling has little experience with Tabaxi and doesn't know how to read them.
Audria stiffens and for a moment, there's a flash of panic on her face. She breaths a little easier when Rigo intercepts Grast, but she knows that it's only a temporary reprieve.
"I'm not sure what we can do, but we'll help."
She continues to paint while wondering if telling Grast she was practicing her nudes would get him to back off or encourage him to barge in.
Salom, seated on the edge of the bed with Thea on his lap, nods in agreement with Audria. This is the first solid lead they've found on Uriah. He tenses, listening to the exchange between Ammos and Rigo.
"Your friend was a nice man... we were sad when he went missing. But we weren't surprised..."
"Like Lucy... Long Lucy, our ringmaster and leader... she disappeared too", before Sedge offers wistfully, "But she's alive... I just know it... somehow, I know"
"We'll find them. All of them. If only we knew where they were, we'd strike. Let us know if anyone has theories about where they might be.
Rigo's booming warning enters the cabin...
"I'm cutting the Message spell. Try to act normally for now."
She severs the message and says, "Oh hi, Ammos! We're just finishing up with this talented duo."
Rigo's discussion with Grast buys Moira and the others a little more time to continue their talk with the halfling acrobats...
The last hurried exchanges between Moira and the halflings are all about Grast's halfling clowns, "They were never part of the circus when Long Lucy was in charge and they're not real performers, not really... have you seen their show? They're here to do Ammos' dirty work... your friend, he was always watching them... the house near the end of the pier - that's where they bunk down and that's where Uriah seemed most interested".
Meanwhile, on the deck above, Rigo's assertions that someone means the circus harm draw a fairly dismissive response, "No-one could have sneaked on to the pier without us knowing... the Scathels and the Frynns, they'd love to see the circus fail but they'd never get past our security", Grast is gloating quite unpleasantly now before taking the mildest of apologetic terms, "Of course, I'm sorry that the owlbeast escaped but it really was nothing more than a silly accident..."
...and finally, having politely made his way past Rigo, Grast stands at the door. He smiles, a predator's grin if ever there was one, at the halfling acrobats before declaring, "Isn't she a wonder? A delight to behold... and her work, her act. her grace, oh truly she is a treasure!!! And this!!! These paintings... I love them - they capture Dandelion's beauty most eloquently!!!"
Audria barely manages to mutter a thank you before she sees that Ammos is about to smear the paint.
"AGH! Please be careful Mister Grast! the paint is still very wet," she doesn't quite scold. "We still need a few more," she adds in a more normal tone and hoping to distract Ammos for a bit, "if it is not too rude of me to ask, would you be so kind as to come back later after I am finished. I would like for at least one of these to be a surprise to you."
"The second one needs more blush," Salom offers, looking over Audria's shoulder. "Careful or you'll make the poor girl look anemic.
I think we should start over on all of them, truthfully. Maybe Mr. Grast would like to keep this one as a souvenir in the meantime. What do you think, Mr. Grast, would these suffice until we're able to complete a more polished set of adverts?"
Well Audria is being sweet to Ammos, weird. I'm gonna buy a silver cestus just so I can plant it in that rat's ugly mug.
Moira, utterly oblivious to Audria's ulterior motives, smiles broadly and says, "Yeah, we'll just get a few more together and then we'll head down to the Liquorice. Any arms dealers down there? I'm hoping to find someone who uses exotic materials."
Rigo grunts, but follows along, hoping his warning was enough.
Smiling at Ammos, "Never argue with an artist if you want your painting. See you later."
Ammos Grast, in truth, is paying far less attention to the paintings than he is towards the subject of the works... leering ungraciously at Dandelion he merely nods in a half-interested way at the protestations from the group that more work is needed to embellish the portraits, "They're fine... they're fine... these ones are only for the plebs anyway - to entice trade and draw the crowds. Maybe another day you could create a piece with me in place of Sedge? Just myself and Dandelion... that would be a fine work and something worthy of the walls in Grast Hall".
...and when Audria's insistence for further painting time continues a little longer than is really polite, Gride steps in, "Come on now miss... you'll have plenty more time for painting another day but Mr Grast, he's got business with the girls... an' he's been waiting on an answer from Dandelion. The guv'nor... he'd like a little private time and besides, you lot have got work to do out there on the island - business ain't going to drum itself up!!!"
It is obvious, from the body language and the way that Gride and Ammos have insinuated themselves between the acrobats and the group, that the presence of Audria and the rest is no longer required...
Moira's question about arms dealers, or other purveyors of exotic materials, draws a little bit of information, "Not in Liquorice... least none that aren't aligned to the filthy Scathels. If you're needing anything for those paintings, well there's a couple of shops up the Skew that regularly supply folks over in the Artist's Quarter... you could do worse than taking a wander up there".
Unable to do anything without potentially getting them all killed, Audria sighs and packs up the paints and goes outside to hang the posters she had done to dry. It was harder to resist the voice in her head now. She wanted so badly to torch Gride's sneering face off and then see what he and Ammos thought of that!
She stops and begins to shake as she notices what she had been tempted to do. Terrified of herself, she walks away as quickly as she can, hoping to find some quiet corner of the circus to play her fiddle and calm herself down.
The paintings, still wet and maybe a little too unfinished in places, will have to wait for another time... it is clear that Ammos Grast wants some time alone with the halfling acrobats - and, whilst his longer term intentions are surely impure, there is no sense that he means them any harm at this time. And so, bidding their employers a farewell, the group make their way back onto the pier alongside the narrowboat.
In the late morning sun, the circus labourers are fully employed - patching repairs to the outside of the tents, sweeping the pier clear of last night's detritus and hauling barrels from one place to another. So busy is the scene that no-one really notices the group as they make their way back towards the thronged streets and lanes of Festival... passing the dilapidated house that the acrobats mentioned, with its drawn and filthy curtains blocking any inquisitive eye, the group are soon back on the quayside.
Moira casts a skeptical eye over the grimy edifice. "This city is such a rathole. The acrobats said this place is where the clowns live. Let's start a ruckus advertising the circus and see if we can't get them out here, see what they're made of? Any chance you could sneak in there while we put on our most diverting street entertainment, Alexis? That... that might be a terrible idea. I just want to find Uriah so we can call in Eleanor's crew and paint some frowns on some clowns."
"Moira! Not so loud," Audria pleads in a strained voice. It seems that she's been pretty shaken by what's going on. "Let's just head out to where we can find some people and convince them to come see the show," she adds in a slightly calmer voice.
Salom holds Thea by the foot as she hovers above him like an absurd balloon. He sighs. "I'm near tired to death of being paranoid. If someone wants to put a dagger to our throats, perhaps it's time to let them?" He laughs gaily at Moira's jest. "Maybe they'd be interested in helping us drum up business."
If there was anyone in the house, so dilapidated and run down that the Lyme must surely claim it soon enough, they must be engaged in other matters - for its windows remain obscured by shabby curtains and its doors firmly closed. And, if anyone heard Moira's proclamations about 'putting a frown on a clown', there is no response... The house, and what it contains, is a mystery that must surely be investigated... but now, whilst daylight prevails over the island of Festival, is not the time.
Instead, the friends play the part assigned to them by fate, by their saviour aboard the Redemption and by the Grast family - that of the circus worker; drumming up trade, shouting about their wares and wonders, creating spectacle and attraction... business is a little slower than it was the previous day, the constant threat of a looming thunderstorm maybe slowing trade across the entire island, and come lunchtime, less than a handful of people have promised to come to the evening's show. Even the sight of Salom's floating automata, as outlandish as it is, fails to entice much interaction... until...
It comes from down a darkened alley to the side of the street corner where they have been calling, singing and playing... a barked voice obviously directed towards the group, "Hey!!! Hey you!!! Over here... we gotta message for you!!!" There are two figures, both obscured by the shadows cast into the alley but both definitely halfling - they make no attempt to come out on to the street, waiting instead, for the group to come to them...
"I'm not as stupid as this outlandish overcoat suggests!" Salom mutters. "Shiv me once, shame on me. But twice, well! This is surely a trap."
Moira chuckles and mutters, "Come on, Salom, shivering over shivs won't get you anywhere. It's just a message. Who knows, maybe these are those Scathels we've heard so much about!"
She takes a quick look around to make sure that they aren't being observed, then calls out, "I'm coming over, but don't get too close, now?" She enters the alley, looking for a good compromise between keeping her distance and getting out of the street's field of vision. "Don't be frightened, my dearie, this won't hurt a bit... you do understand that I don't feel like I should get any closer, don't you?"
She casts Message on the halfling who spoke, and whispers, "There now, nobody can overhear us, and nobody is close enough to stab anybody. What's the message?"
Audria spends a little time calming herself before throwing herself into the songs and dances she'd performed back in Wicken. Her feet drum out a rhythm as she dances about the area cleared for their performances and plays her fiddle with more than passing skill. Soon, all thoughts of Ammos and his cronies are gone as she just enjoys giving her performance.
At least until the halflings appear. She soon finds herself wishing that Moira and Salom wouldn't get so close and scurries to stay with them after finishing her current piece and promising the crowd more at the Circus Macabre.
"She'll be the death of us," Salom says with a gleam in his eye as his gaze follows Moira. "The question is, will she save us first?"
Shrugging at the question of sneaking, "I can."
Trailing behind Moira and waiting to see what answer her magical whispers will get them.
There is nothing magical about the way in which the halflings are obscured by the shadow... and Rigo is pretty sure that there are no other figures hiding further down the alleyway... but when Moira attempts to converse without being heard she seems to spook the halflings. And a panicked mental shriek comes back at her, "Witch!!! Get out of my head Witch!!!"
Audria looks on, wondering why Moira just went silent all of the sudden. She was normally a chatterbox.
"The gods's sakes!" Moira grumbles, snapping the connection. "I'm just gonna go see what's up, they aren't scary."
Moira walks into the alley. "Alright, have it your way. What's the message?"
Audria slaps a hand to her forehead and slowly drags it over her face before following Moira with a long suffering groan. She stays close to the mourner, while watching their backs.
Salom frowns as Moira disappears into the alley, moving in that direction behind Audria.
Not quite cowering, but far from confident as Moira approaches, the two ruffians are wrapped in coarse woollen cloaks that tell of the approaching autumnal cold... and it is only when Moira, and her friends, are close by and, notably, out of view from the main thoroughfares that they talk. The larger of the two, and neither is especially tall, is first to speak - his teeth yellow and his breath fetid, "You lot... you're working for the Grasts, right? See... there's your first mistake right there - why would you want to serve that pack of sewage born filth? Ain't no reason for it... and how comes no one knows of you - where'd you come from?"
...the stench of vermin, even to those without Rigo's immense scent powers, is almost overpowering.
Audria nearly gags on the stench and covers her mouth and nose with her hands as she moves further behind Moira.
"Would you believe us if we said Fairy Land?"
Moira smiles at Audria's wit. Just for fun, she slips into her best argot, "Ain't no reason a'tall 'cept we're newcomers what needed work, and the Grasts respect talent." She snaps back into her usual voice, "You look like a smart lad, you know they aren't paying us to promote a circus act, right?." She tries to look her most vicious. "I'm afraid they aren't paying us half what we're worth, and that Ammos Grast really is a fine specimen of something or other, isn't he? But if we can't find a better deal, what's a family of fairylanders to do, lost in the big city? At least he hasn't made us angry, yet. So what do you want, fellas? Are the... it's the Scathels, right? Are they looking to hire some talent away from the opposition?"
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Audria's expression, hidden behind her hands, doesn't change much.
Inside, though...
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! She's gonna get us further into this mess!
Leaning against the wall and watching the street rats.Jumping into the conversation before they can answer Moira, "Who's askin?"
Salom silently laments letting his pipe tobacco become wet, but otherwise pays attention to the conversation.
Audria's glib comment about where the group might originally call home is summarily ignored by the two rogues - their pinched faces revealing vile yellowed teeth as they scowl towards Moira and her attempts to pitch talent, "You got that right miss... we're Scathels right enough and no, we aren't hiring - less'n you and your paymasters forget, us Scathels we play right by the Troth an' the Scathels respect our traditions an'...", at this point the pair flick disapproving glances towards Rigo, "...what it means to be Family".
Salom stands protectively near Audria and Alexis, hoping Moira knows what she's up to negotiating in a dark alley.
"The Troth?"
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The most talkative of the two Scathels shrugs at Salom's suggested question, "Yes... the Troth. Why, the Grasts now think themselves above such trivialities as our shared histories, our mutual allegiances and the eternal battle between Family... and those who are not of our blood?"
...it is the second of the Scathels, a lot more skittish than his companion, who seems to panic first. Maybe it is Moira's use of clairvoyancy, or maybe it is Rigo's imposing presence, but he interrupts the other to spit out a threat, "You... yes, you need to go back to Ammos an' tell 'im it's the Scathels what are the entertainers in this town, time for the bastard to slink back to his father and back up his own a%+&!!@~ where he came from". And, as he spits out his demand, his nose and mouth start to visibly protrude from his face... and, as he seems to grow shorter even than before, the stench of rat becomes almost unbearable...
Tilting her head to the side and smiling, Really wish I had magic right about now. "You two don't wanna be here so why don't we get the part where you give a good reason why we should play messenger for you?"
Smiling at the more skittish one, "You all right there?" Don't say cat got your tongue, don't say cat got your tongue..
This is looking bad.
Audria peeks out from behind Moira and sees one of the halflings grow more ratlike.
"M-moira," she says in a soft, cautious voice that's slowly edging towards panic. Moira can feel the heat from Audria hiding behind her as the air starts to feel not so dank and clammy.
Moira steps back and puts an arm around Audria to comfort the poor girl. After a moment she jerks her arm away again... hot!
"Someone who came from their own ass, you say? I wouldn't put much past Ammos but that... well. And are you seriously complaining to us that the Grasts are moving in on your territory? Maybe you need to hire better talent, after all."
Maybe it is Moira's tone... or maybe it is the panic setting in on the changing Scathel rogue... it matter not - for the effect is the same - lunging forwards, the rat featured halfling actually bites Moira!!! His vile teeth drawing blood and sending a shock of pain up Moira's arm...
Turning and running, the Scathels are already bickering as they attempt to lose their potential pursuers in the maze of alleyways...
"Why'd you do that!!!!"
"It's what the boss wanted... show them disrespect... show them who's in charge 'round 'ere..."
"They ain't 'Family'... couldn't you tell? Don't you know what you done?"
Moira runs after the one that bit her and casts Hideous Laughter at him.
"This must be some kind of sick joke!"
"If so, I fear it's on us!" Salom releases Thea into the air. She flutters down the alley after the Scathel vermin, congesting it with the caustic fumes from her exhaust pipes. Salom draws the long, sharp spear he's been saving for just such an occasion, and moves forward closer to Moira.
"Catch but don't kill!" Tugging her rapier free