Ahto gives a barely perceptible nod, then turns back to Johnny.
"This guy really got under your skin, eh?" Ahto replies. "This guy had the gall to threaten you, and if he happens to be the ones who set those thugs on us, then it seems like we have a mutual interest in finding him and dealing with him, wouldn't ya say?"
He sits down across from Sixfingers and looks him in the eye. "The service is mutual, Johnny. True, you're offering a discount for your service of providing information, but isn't this more in line with the cost of doing business? Everyone benefits from you sharing the information, and we'd be happy to throw you, say, twenty measures for your part."
Zeph whispers to Pyrrha as Ahto continues to take Johnny's attention, "Is it normal for there to be so much blood in Johnny's office?" he points out the crimson trail to her discreetly, "Think it might be our guy?"
"Twenty measures? I... look, I can't go that low. We both know that. I'll go down the thirty, alright? Thirty measures, and you'll be doing me a favor." Johnny sighs, and leans back in his chair. "Do we have a deal, then? Thirty measures?"
Aemon does his best to look inconspicuous as he eyes Johnny's collection of knick-knacks, only half paying attention to the haggling going on.
Might I make another offer? Kierana leans in ever-so-slightly toward Johnny. Payment in kind, as it were. I'm in service to the Savored Sting at the Pleasure Court. You seem like a man who knows what he wants, and I happen to be in the business of catering to my customers'...wants. Subtly, her hand travels toward his knee, stopping just short.
Or, if your taste is for other fruit...well, I know which trees to shake. I can connect you with whatever savor you may wish to indulge. And if you could see fit to meet us at our price, I could make quite certain it would be worth your while. Twenty measures, and a night that will linger long in your memory. We both get what we want.
Johnny looks at Kierana again, a wry smile on his face again. "Look, sweety... you're a looker, sure, but trust me when I say I got m'own connections at the Pleasure Court. Thirty measures, take it or leave it."
-----
As Aemon takes a look around, a number of the magical items appear to be something more powerful or innately magical than someone of his stature might be expected to have. Older artifacts from the Shackles feature among them, along with a number of magical items that appear to be of very old, Chellish origin. A few are also from other areas, but all share the fact that they're beyond the pay-grade of an information broker.
Zeph whispers to Pyrrha as Ahto continues to take Johnny's attention, "Is it normal for there to be so much blood in Johnny's office?" he points out the crimson trail to her discreetly, "Think it might be our guy?"
Pyrrha notices the blood and follows where it leads as she brushed a stray hair from her face. "Is there anything normal about violence?" she whispers back to Zephyrion. "I can't say for sure, but as everyone said with Twist, what choice do we have?"
"This better be worth it." Pyrrha says loud enough and with enough emphasis, to convey her expectations.
"Thirty it is, then," Ahto says, offering his hand to seal the deal.
He looks to Pyrrha and nods, indicating she should go ahead and count out the 30 gold.
Pyrrha sets down her pack and pulls out the thirty coins keeping the majority of money hidden. Once proof of the money is there, she looks up at the irritated Johnny with an expectant gaze. "Alright, let's see you earn this then."
"Wasn't so hard, eh? Now, what're you lookin' to find? I'm guessin' yer lookin' for Blondie, right? What's your beef with the guy, anyway?" Johnny pulls the coins towards himself, picking each one up and looking over them as he talks to the group. "Not that it matters, 'course. Just curious."
"Err, yes. The guy you keep calling, Blondie. We'll find out whether or not we got a beef with him when we catch-up to him," Ahto replies. "Soooo, what can you tell us?"
"Prob'ly not as much as you want. Don't know his name, or even who he's workin' for. He came in 'ere couple hours ago, lookin' for her--" he begins, pointing towards Korihor, "--But he was real dodgy when I asked why. I didn' know nothin' 'bout her, told him to scram. Tried to threaten me, and that's when things got a little violent. He made a grab for me, had a little scuffle. Got my knife in 'im once or twice, probably not real happy." Johnny finishes looking through the gold coinds, sliding them into a small sack.
"What I can tell ya, though, is 'e was after her on someone's orders. Told me in no uncertain terms that 'is boss would be unhappy if he didn't get what 'e wanted. Said he needed the girl for somethin' 'bout "unpaid debts", but he wasn't much of a liar. He described your friend here in detail, though. Definitely who he was lookin' for. Seemed real interested in some kinda tattoo on 'er back? Said it looked kinda like a tree, somethin' like that." Johnny picks up the sack of gold and sets it inside a drawer, slamming it closed before locking it with a key. "Had a friend dressed like 'im too, but he waited outside. Both of 'em were in some heavy plate, like they were lookin' for a fight. Before our, uh... disagreement, he told me 'e wanted all the information I could find sent to some seedy place near the docks; the Crow's Nest? I'd bet money that's where the li'l f*cker went runnin'. There was a name, too... Sven? Don't know 'im, but I'd start there."
"Unpaid debts?
"Like I said, not a good liar. You're not too, uh... quick on the uptake, are ya? He wasn't after ya for unpaid debts, far as I figured. He was sellin' me a story to try and get somethin' outta me." Johnny moves back to looking through papers and other paraphernalia on his desk, no longer looking directly at the party. "If ya got more questions, I'll do m'best. Otherwise, you'll need to keep movin'. For your sakes, I mean. He'll go t'ground, I'd bet. I would, if I were him."
As for Sven, he's not a man you've ever heard of, although it could easily be an alias or simply someone from a different section of the criminal underworld. You can piece together that he's probably an intermediary between the man you're looking to find and whoever he works for, though.
"Johnny, you're expensive for not being very good at giving us good information to act on. Since you've been paid why don't you go ahead and make arrangements to get this mans name and where he is staying. Then we can follow up on him ourselves."
"F*ckin' excuse me, Princess. I'm not that kinda broker, alright? You paid me for information, and that's what'cha got. 'Sides, I take the time to try an' find this guy, he's gonna go to ground. We didn' exactly part ways amicably, eh? I go diggin' around, and then we're all f*cked." He stands up from his desk, picking up his knife and sliding it into the sheath at his belt. "Besides, I ain't leavin' the lot of ya out in the cold. If he's workin' for somebody, that means they hired 'im. Gimme a li'l time, and I ought to be able to figure out who."
Johnny walks up to Pyrrha, scrawny but still almost a head taller than her. "Y'don't wanna get on my bad side, miss. I'm not the kinda man you want workin' against you." He stares her down, hand nonchalantly resting on the hilt of his dagger."I'm workin' below my normal rate f'you, and ain't even askin' a favor in return. You do your job in all this, and I'll handle mine. Got it?" He lets the words hang in the air for a minute, eyes locked with the elf. "When I know somethin', I'll find you. Now get the bloody f*ck outta my office."
Come now, everyone. There's no reason to part ways anything but amicably. Unless one of you makes a reason... Kierana rises, subtly shifting between Johnny and Pyrrha. We have the Crow's Nest to look into, and Sven to ask after. Now, if you'll excuse us, Johnny, we thank you for your help. And remember me when next you make your way to the Court, so I can thank you properly, she finishes with a coy wink.
Johnny huffs, still staring at Pyrrha as he waits for the group to leave. "Listen to yer friend there. She's got more sense." Johnny takes his hand off the dagger, but still keeps his arms folded in front of his chest. "If ya find anything in the Crow's Nest, you let me know. If Blondie's still there, see if ya can't get 'im back here so we can all 'ave a li'l chat. If not, see if you can track 'im down. A li'l birdy'll find ya if there's anything I think you ought'a know." He snaps his fingers once, and the large half-orc from appears in the doorway, opening it for the party to leave. "Now then, be on yer way. I got business to attend to 'fore I get wrapped up in this." He looks to Kierana as he impatiently waits for you all to leave. "And I will, sweetheart. Trust me."
Thank you. We certainly will pass along what we can. And again, we thank you. Kierana drops into a polite half-curtsy and makes her exit, rejoining Acharn just outside with a pat on the chitinous thorax.
As the room begins to empty, Aemon catches Sixfinger's eye.
"I'm afraid we didn't get to talk much, you and I, but next time I come through I'd love to chat with you about your collection." He gestures to the artifacts. "I'm always pleased to find a fellow enthusiast and, unless I miss my guess, some of those are very well-made Ghol-Gani replicas. Yes, next time we'll need to talk."
He flashes Sixfingers a knowing grin before heading for the door.
Zeph finds himself a bit lost during the exchange, the criminal element not exactly his forte, but he gets the general idea. He nods to Johnny as they leave, attempting to look strong and silent, rather than slow and confused.
After they get outside he asks the others, "So... this Crow's Nest? Think we'll actually find anything there?"
Leaving the Coins behind, the group heads down towards the Docks district, and the smell of salt air almost assaults you as you break from the city streets. The sound of vendors shouting from their stands is instead replaced with sailors and workers hauling cargo on and off of the many ships docked in the harbor. Seagulls start crying from their perches aboard the ships' masts, an annoying chorus amongst the shouting.
The Crow's Nest looks almost like it was built onto the nearest building, the wood coarse and grayed from exposure to the salt air. The door creaks as you open it, and a few of the patrons look over at you, only to lose interest moments later. Two sailors appear to be arm-wrestling over in the corner, a stack of silver pieces sitting next to them on the table. A few men are gathered around here, cheering for one or the other. Two others seem to be fighting for sport, and patrons stand outside the makeshift ring with small coin purses in hand. The only one who maintains interest is the bartender, who calls you towards the bar.
"New faces, huh? What brings y'down here? Can I get'cha anything?"
"About time..." Korihor mumbles to herself, walking up to the bar. "Do you have anything distilled? Or is it just brews?"
Kierana lets Korihor have a chance to approach the bar, electing instead to take a seat at a corner table and scan the crowd.
Curiosity, for my part, Kierana responds to his query with a smile when he approaches. It's amusing to see the sights from time to time, take in new faces, as you said. I'll have a glass of watered wine for now, and some bread and cheese if it's not too much trouble.
She opens her hand to reveal five gold measures, far more than the small meal costs. Speaking of faces, there was one I had hoped you could point out. A friend of a friend - and apparently has the potential to become a lucrative client of mine, from what I'm told. I was hoping to catch sight of him today, get the measure of him. Goes by the name of Sven?
"Sven? Yeah... he's around 'ere somewhere." The bartender takes a moment to fetch the requested food and drink. With his back turned to the party, he begins talking again. "We ain't got nothin' fancy here, miss. We got wine and ale, that's 'bout it." He hands Kierana her bread and cheese, along with the drink, before pointing over to the corner, near the men arm wrestling. "See the older guy, balding? That's Sven over there. I'd wait till they're done over there, though, if yer gonna talk to 'im. Get's real testy when he's in a bettin' mood."
Of course, sir. Thank you for your aid, and for the meal. May your foes always receive their due, she finishes with a Calistrian benediction. When he departs, she turns to the others. So, what do you think? Someone join in the games, perhaps? Challenge him to a match and, shall we say, ensure he receives a taste of victory? It may help to loosen his tongue.
"Well, I'd challenge him, but I doubt he'd take much pleasure in beating an old man," Aemon says, shooting Ahto a meaningful look. He steps up to Korihor and leans in to murmur something in her ear.
Kierana merely chuckles softly, smirking.
"I'm game," Ahto says, cracking his knuckles.
He strides over to the arm wrestling table and announces. "I'll go next round, if nobody's waiting."
"Is anyone else tempted to bet on Ahto?" Zeph grins as he watches the man step up.
"After the way Twist owned him a few days ago I think Ahto's luck has run out.. Pyrrha sighs as she stands with the others.
"I wouldn't let him hear you say that Pyrrha, you might hurt his pride, or... his heart." Zeph wiggles his eyebrows at Pyrrha.
Korihor grimaces, listening to the conversation, and glares at Aemon. She groans. She snips at the bartender, "I'll have a distilled water, if you have any."
"Yeah, I'll go a round wit'cha. C'mon, pull up a chair, sit down," a rather large--although not quite as burly as Ahto--sailor sits down across from him, a gold tooth peeking out from under his lips as he gives Ahto a grin. He slaps three silver weights down on the table, sliding them towards the center. "Pony up, mate." Between the two of them, those gathered start tallying up bets, including Sven. After considering for a moment, he slides a gold measure up next to Ahto's waiting arm.
"Sven, bettin' on a newcomer?" one of the other men asks, as most of them men slide their coins to the sailor, clearly having a reputation among the betting men. Sven shrugs, not commenting on his decision. A few of the men, seeing the gambler put his money on Ahto, make a move as if to switch, but most of them remain on the side of the sailor. The sailor himself clasps hands with Ahto, tensing his muscles for the coming 'competition'. The man who questioned Sven about his bet puts his own hand on top of those of the wrestlers. "On three; one, two, THREE!" he shouts, lifting his hand off and letting the two men commence.
-----
"Sure thing, miss. Glass o'water for ya." The bartender slides the glass towards Korihor, who then eyes the rest of the party for a moment. "So, what business do ya'll have with Sven, then? Business, or uh..." the bartender thinks for a moment, mulling over the words. "... somethin' personal?"
Well, aren't all the best moments in life a little of both? Kierana replies with a light laugh and a hand on his arm. I'm afraid, though, it's business, at least on my part. As I said, I had him recommended as a potential client; I simply wished to get his measure without the stresses of my workplace weighing on him. The others joined me on my way here; we found each other's company diverting, and they had had your establishment recommended as well. Well, it's not entirely false... she thinks to herself, and has to take a sip of her drink to keep from laughing.
Ahto is surprised by the sudden leverage applied to his arm. He grits his teeth and tries to hold his position and outlast the sailor.
"I wouldn't let him hear you say that Pyrrha, you might hurt his pride, or... his heart." Zeph wiggles his eyebrows at Pyrrha.
Pyrrha scoffs, "Gross."
The sailor laughs, watching Ahto grit his teeth against his push. "Y'might look tough, but you ain't got the skill." A few of the man laugh or start to cheer, some making comments to Sven about his bad bet. He still sits calmly, watching Ahto intently, not paying much attention to the rabble-rousing around him. The sailor himself gets cocky, loosening his grip and the pressure on Ahto's arm.
-----
"Ah, of course. He's a, uh... complicated man. He would do well with some more pleasant company." The bartender pockets the few coins the group has tossed onto the table, sliding them into a coin purse. "Can I get anything for the rest o'ya, or are you just hear waitin' to speak with Sven?
"Don't count your coins just yet, swabby!"
The sailor reacts with surprise as Ahto catches him off guard, nearly slamming the man's fist into the table. Pressing back, he starts to scowl. "Got some fight in ya, huh? Maybe I'll buy ya a drink with all the coin I'm 'bout to make." Some of the men surrounding the two look a little more nervous as the sailor's elbow slips on the table, putting him in a rather compromising position. Sven just smiles, barely noticable with the yelling surrounding him and the wrestlers.
Ahto presses his advantage, putting his weight behind his arm.
"Your listing, Skipper!"
The other man struggles to keep his hand off the table, and the veins from his neck to his arm pop out as he struggles. "How're you..." he mutters between gritted teeth, a barely audible growl escaping his lips. "C'mon! Just a little more... c'mon...." he snarls, his hand hovering maybe an inch from the table. The men around the two start shouting, some angry while others are just in shock as they realize they've likely just lost themselves a fair bit of coin. "Y'think you're a big man, huh? Comin' in here like this? I'm gonna teach you a lesson." The sailor pushes back with all his strength, but his precarious position doesn't give him much leverage to work with.
"A lesson is scrapin' barnacles? 'Cause you just got carreened!" Ahto retorts, slamming the man's hand to the table.
Perhaps a half a dozen men cry out as the sailor's hand is slammed into the table, but Sven just chuckles. A couple of the other men scowl at him for a moment, before one of them pokes at his chest. "Wait a minute... you set us up, didn't you? You never take a bet y'don't think you'll win, but he ain't never set foot in here. You lyin' piece a'sh*t!" A few of the other men start to surround the table, all echoing the first. "I ain't givin' you my money, ya f*ckin' swindler!"
"My friend is obviously the bigger man and has experience with combat, does it really surprise you so that he won? It's no one's fault but your own that you didn't bet on the obvious winner." Zeph quietly points out from behind the other men.
To any who turn back thinking to catch a meeker man Zeph glares stonily, his hair once more flickering in an unnatural breeze.
As the men surround the table, Ahto calmly rises to his feet and gives a quick sideways nod of his head, eliciting a audible crack.
"Step back, boys, or I'll be happy to use your heads for holystones."
He gives them all a glare, daring them to take a swing.
As Zeph stares down the man who turns around, the gambler shrinks beneath his gaze and backs up, almost into Ahto. After a few moments, the group of men start to back off, slowly backing away from the pair and Sven. A number of them grumble, but Sven just laughs. "They all just don't know how to lose; serves them right, if you ask me." And older man, Sven's blonde hair is graying at his temples, and a large bald spot occupies the top of his head. His beard is longer, but well-trimmed, and he strokes it as he looks at Zeph and Ahto. "Your friend here moves like a warrior, not a sailor. He has more grace in his steps, and his movements are more deliberate. Men like that seldom lose." He stands up, finally, pushing in his chair behind him. He scoops up the silver and gold left on the table, handing Ahto his own share.
"That's for you, I believe. Quite a show, and I've never seen you around here before. You new to town, or just not come by the docks much?"
"I'm no stranger to Absalom, but in my line of work, the Docks tend to be a place I pass through, not hang around," Ahto replies, making a quick count of the coin and pocketing it.
"I gotta say, though, if I start coming here regular, then this place" he waves a hand toward the tavern room at-large "might become a favorite place to spend my free-time!"