"No, he shouldn't be an issue for you any longer." River says with a smile. "Reg here is coming with us to work for Mr Vancaskerskin, earning an honest days coin!" He nods a few times and then slides smoothly on to a new conversation. "So Father, what did you say your operating costs were again?"
Father Padrik swallows. "...six gold pieces?"
"Five, sir." Jonas corrects him.
"Yes, yes, five."
River hands over five gold pieces, to Jonas, not the Father. "I think the work you do here is valuable." He says firmly. "I'd like to support it when I can, as long as it is the good work. How about I come by next week and see how things are going?"
Jonas' eyes widen and he accepts the offered gold without complaint. Father Padrik blinks a couple of times before looking right at you.
"That--that would be welcome, sir. I--I will admit, I was not expecting any charitable souls who still call Riddleport home tonight."
"I had some good fortune tonight." River says simply. "It seems only right that I let it flow further on. Damming a river does little good in the long-run."
"Good to see you up, Crys. That was a nasty hit, and you've got quite a crack in your skin there. Need any help moving about?" Blaze asks, coming over to Gale and her.
"If not, let's tie this guy up and search the floor. Maybe we'll find something useful. That arsonist might still be here somewhere, too."
On the way out the door, resolving to give this room only a quick glance and search it thoroughly later, he lingers. "You know, if the two of you want a room together, I'm sure Saul can provide. Just ah, throwing that out there."
He winks and exits the room with the Pauper's stuff in his backpack for temporary safekeeping, half-dragging the unconscious body of the man himself after him from beneath the shoulders.
The rest of the team turns over the rest of the upper floors of St. Casperian's with a fine-toothed comb. Most of the rooms are empty bedrooms with filthy sheets and poorly-maintained furnishings, but the room the Pauper emerged from is cleaner than the rest. Inside, the group finds a couple of cases beneath the Pauper's bed.
The first case contains two bundles of filthy street clothing around what appear to be three envelopes of I.O.Us and correspondences the Pauper kept with various petty street gangs from districts elsewhere in Riddleport. The second case is covered in a fine layer of grime, but its contents are arguably more valuable:
--a pouch of flayleaf worth about 12 GP;
--2 potions of viscous grey fluid matching the one taken off his body;
--1 long, slender wand of beech wood that seems to gently buzz in your hand.
Also in the Pauper's room is a burned man in singed green robes, cowering in the corner. The reedy moustache and goatee he once had has clearly been burnt off, along with one of his eyebrows. He's otherwise unharmed.
He swallows in fear when he recognizes Blaze coming through the door. "...Um... please let me explain."
"Hmmm... not sure about this wand. Something with electricity? I'll need to study it some more later. For now, let's take all this stuff. I think Saul will want to be aware. Maybe other gangs were in on this attack, or maybe-"
He breaks off as the group notices the missing Angvar cowering in the corner. Rising and standing next to the pauper's unconscious and bound body, Blaze simply crosses his arms. "Okay - explain away. First, Saul's got your girlfriend Thuvalia and your... maybe friends back at the gambling hall. Second - they talked. Third - a lot of innocent people got injured as a result of your pyromania. So please explain why we shouldn't take you to him right now?"
On the way out the door, resolving to give this room only a quick glance and search it thoroughly later, he lingers. "You know, if the two of you want a room together, I'm sure Saul can provide. Just ah, throwing that out there."
Gale’s pale cheeks flush pink. ”I, uh... I think that’s something to discuss at another time...”
She remains quiet as Blaze interrogates Angvar.
Angvar swallows. "That whole 'pyromania' incident... that's not how it was supposed to happen. I didn't mean for that scroll to explode and set the building on fire--the Pauper gave it to me. Said he got it off of some other fancyboy he jumped."
"I needed the money, and I was afraid of what would happen if the Pauper didn't get his due--"
It's about now that he notices the unconscious Pauper next to Blaze. His eyes widen and he whimpers in terror.
Blaze just blinks at the guy, then gently takes hold of Sertse and places him on his hand. "Get River for me, will you? He's downstairs somewhere."
As the reptilian bird flies off, he sighs and turns to his other two companions to see if they had any opinions or input. Noticing Alorea watching silently, he continues. "So this genius claims to have torched the place accidentally . There were over a dozen people injured and my friend here's 100th birthday celerbration also got ruined because of you. Newsflash: You're not doing a good job dissuading us from dragging you to Saul. Not yet, at least. How are you going to make up for this?"
Angvar sputters for a moment before taking a breath. "I've got a few pieces of kit with me--a scroll of shrink item that I didn't get a chance to use, some enchanted bracers, and my wand." He draws a length of burnt oak wood from his robe. "It's good for shocking people. They're all yours if you just let me go. You'll never hear from me again, I swear!"
River returns to the upper floors when Sertse comes for him, leaving Reg happily discussing the latest rumors with Jonas.
"Oh, so this is the gentleman that burned down my favorite casino..." He says on arrival. "What's the plan Blaze, I'm sure Saul would like to meet him!"
"I'm sure he would. Just wanted to ask you again about that impressive 'drowning while standing on dry land trick' you can do to people. Just so he knows what'll happen if he causes trouble. Because it seems as though he's got nothing to offer that Saul wouldn't take from him anyway," Blaze replies, as he loads his crossbow for dramatic effect.
He looks to the side. "Crys, would you do the honors of tying him up? We'll bring him to Saul and let him decide what to do. If this guy's lucky, he'll be pressed into service or something. I seem to recall we lost a lot of succibi who need replacing..."
He grins, clearly amused at the idea.
"Oh yeah." River says, shooting Blaze a wink. "Well you know I can conjure water right?" He does so just to prove a point. "Well if I do it right I can fill a persons lungs up with conjured water. Then they drown, obviously, without ever even seeing the ocean."
"Did you know?" He adds, with the kind of casualness that only someone who can breathe when surrounded by water can manage. "It only takes about half a vial's worth of water to kill you? If you get that much in your lungs then your lungs start producing mucus to try and get rid of it and that's what drowns you. It can take days. But I'm sure our friend here isn't going to make me do that..."
He smiles again at Angvar, just to make sure that the man is suitably terrified and then turns away. "That was about the only useful fact I ever learned at the stupid 'Elemental Sciences Academy' we had to go to for a while."
A thorough sweep of the upper floors of the mission doesn't turn up anything else of interest, so the party heads back downstairs and out into the streets with Angvar, the Pauper and Reg in tow.
Well, not bad for the party's first real night in Riddleport.
---------------------
Saul and Larur are waiting for the party in the main gambling hall by the time they return. The key-handed man has a grin of sheer delight on his face.
"You're back--and with what looks like good news. How'd things go?"
"Piece of cake," Blaze says, grinning. "This guy is the Splithog Pauper - the mastermind who wanted to make a name for himself. Was actually holed up in the church his flunkies could direct us to. Not exactly the smartest thing to do, if I'm honest. Crys here knocked him out clean, and we got a lot of his letters too, if you care for a read."
He pushes, then kicks the bound and unconscious body of the Pauper forward over the floor.
"This other guy here is Angvar, also known as the arsonist who set fire to the hall. He claims to have done it 'accidentally' due to a scroll malfunction and that he was forced to do it because of some debt to Pauper McBigbrains." He rolls his eyes to show his opinion on it as he pushes the caster to the front.
Then he smiles and motions to their muscled new 'friend'. "And this guy is Reg. He helped us deal with the Pauper in exchange for some money. Seems like a decent guy to have around. He's, ah, 'very straightforward', really strong, and possibly resistant to magic. Came with us afterwards since he's looking for more work, so maybe you want to give him a shot, Boss."
Finished with his report, he looks to see if his companions had anything to add, then simply asks: "So what are you going to do with them now?"
Nysene shrugs as Blaze looks back at her. She couldn't really care less what they shared with Saul, she just wants to know what the four of them can do now to rescue this pitiful day.
River shakes his head - Blaze has covered all the important things with admirable pith.
Saul twirls his walking stick and grins down at the Pauper and the burnt mage. "What'll I do with them, indeed..."
He takes the letters from Blaze and gives them a quick look over. "...well, well, well. Looks like you've been busy, Beltias." He stashes the letters away in his jacket and turns his eye on the Pauper. "I reckon the gendarmes would just love to make your acquaintance."
Beltias finally stirs from his unconsciousness to look Saul in the eye. His face pales. "You..."
"Hans? Beyar?" Saul bangs his walking stick on the floor and summons two burly-looking bouncers--one with a mop of greasy black hair and the other with a burn on the side of his face. "Would you kindly escort these two downstairs?" He gestures to Angvar and Beltias. "I reckon the law'll be here soon enough."
They grunt in the affirmative and haul the Pauper away, leaving just Reg with the crew.
"Now, I do believe I owe the four of you jobs." He points at River first. "You. You've got an uncanny knack for making winning bets--one that defies the laws of chance, from the looks of things. I'm betting you'd make a fine dealer here at the Gold Goblin."
"Blaze, you can keep your job--so long as you keep your watery friend from ol' Dungo." He points at Blaze next. "That ghouled head's a money-maker and one episode of catatonia's enough for this place."
He turns to Crystal. "I understand you've got quite a right cross. And you look like a right proper smart lass. I think you'd make a good chief of security here."
"And you..." He finally turns to Gale. "...you, I'm not entirely sure about yet. How good do you reckon your eyes are?"
Gale shrugs languidly. "Pretty good, I reckon," she says, matching Saul's drawl. "My eyesight is rather keen."
Saul nods. "Alrighty then. We've got a bunch of catwalks above the main floor we use to keep an eye out for cheaters and other undesirables. Figure you could put your eyes to use up there?"
"Figure I could," Gale says with a sly smile.
"Well, glad that's sorted then." Saul taps his walking stick on the floor. "We're going to have our hands full getting repairs underway tomorrow--I reckon you lot have earned yourselves a good night's rest."
Hans comes up to Saul's side. "Hans? Bring these four to their rooms. First floor."
The greasy-haired Hans nods and beckons for the party to follow him. "This way."
--------------------
The guest rooms on the first floor are sparsely decorated, but clean and tidy. Each room has a single bed with a dresser and mirror nearby, as well as a chamberpot underneath each bed. "Not much frills, but it'll do ya." Hans says. "Better than what Beyar and I've got."
River mimes taking a bolt to the heart when Saul says Blaze should keep him away from Dungo but doesn't object to his new job - even though its likely to be far less fun than being on the other side of the table.
He stays quiet until Hans is gone and then comments casually to Gale. "We could move one of the beds in here if you wanted..."
"No! No, it's okay," Gale says quickly. "I think we should all have our own space. For prudence's sake."
"No! No, it's okay," Gale says quickly. "I think we should all have our own space. For prudence's sake."
"So it's 'more prudent' if it's easier for you to sneak off to Crys' room alone? Got it! I'll have to remember that one." Blaze smirks from the doorway. "Anyway, nice for all of you to stick around - without even asking about the pay! Did you all miss me that much?"
"I'm doing ok right now." River says with a grin. "And of course we missed you Blaze! Anyways. This can be Crys' room, Gale, then me, then Blaze. Work for everyone? Good! Now, does anyone want to go out for a drink? I feel like we still owe someone a birthday..." He says with a big grin.
"Sounds like a plan! Let's see if Crys is open to the idea. I know a few taverns around here, some of which even serve a good bite. ...So long as you like 'mystery stew', that is." He grins and leaves to grab his coat for the drinking trip.
Crystal nods in agreement. "I'm owed a birthday meal anyway after the foul mess up last night! Not sure anywhere will match my standard but Im sure we will find something passable, and besides, Im not paying." She laughs at herself a little, realising the ridiculousness of the whole thing before dumping her things in the room and following the group out into the night.
"Haha. Classy as ever. And we come from the same backwater village?" Blaze grins and shakes his head. "Let's say tonight's food is on the pauper. As is the rest of the next year or so, if this here dagger's really worth a thousand gold."
He wistles as he gives the thing a few experimental twirls, only to quickly lose control and drop it on the floor planks. "Maybe I'll... ah, be better at this after I've had a few ales."
His hair changes to a brief shade of blue as he attempts to joke it off, then reverts to yellow.
"I've got this!" River replies. "We can split the proceeds from the Pauper later, but I did well tonight and I want to share!"
Following Blaze's advice the group heads to a tavern that's open late and River orders four bowls of the mystery stew, three ales and a mug of water. When it all arrives he swirls his finger in the water until its crystal clear and then joins in the toast with the others.
"To the birthday girl, and centuries to come!"
Once everyone is eating River turns to Crystal. "So Crys, been a while since we saw you." That's an attempt at being diplomatic. "What have you been up to? Blaze has been getting himself a reputation at a gaming hall and we've been hanging out with druids. You ever go to the fancy art school you talked about?"
"Yeah, I did, for all of a year. Apparently I'm too good for them and they didn't want me anymore. They couldn't live up to my self-portraits and sculptures and found it hard to interpret them for what they really were." Crystal says, shrugging her shoulders.
She picks up her knife and starts fiddling with it, scoring the wooden table with her initials. "Got a bit bored after that and, you know, my parents passed, so I came back to pick up my inheritance and try and help out in the family business. Wasn't my kinda thing though, but I stuck around there for a bit and stuck with that nonetheless." She says, somewhat pointedly. "I hung around and helped some of the new townies out, but most of them didn't know me all too well. The place has moved on since we grew up there."
"Yeah." River agrees, "I was telling Blaze, we went back fairly recently to see Dad after Mum passed. It was practically a different place apart from him. Do you remember Molly, the halfling we used to play with? She had grandkids!"
Gale listens quietly to Crystal's story, taking it at face value.
Blaze nods along at the Crystal's explanation. That sounded like her, all right - nothing ever seemed good enough for her tastes, though the first person to admit that was probably a dead man. It certainly wouldn't be him! In a way, this 'flightly' aspect of her reminded him of Gale, though the first man to point that out'd problaly die twice .
He did miss the theatrics, of the two of them trying to outdo the other in spinning the most incredulous tales. Unfortunately, it had gotten to a point that both of them were so good at lying that it was hard to tell exactly where the line of reality was crossed.
Instead, he simply adds more hot sauce to his mystery stew. "Ah, good old Molly. Was always so doting over the younger kids that i'm surprised it took her so long to settle down. Wonder what caused that? Her pie was delicious, and she wasn't that bad of a looker too."
He takes another swig of his ale, which partly combusts on the way in.
The patrons around the group are a chatty bunch, even at this time of night. When the party first arrives at The Tipsy Treant, everyone's eyes briefly land on them--if only because of how much they stand out against a backdrop of grimy sailors, plainly-garbed workmen and the occasional scantily-clad streetwalker. Once they settle in, the patrons go back to drinking and blathering amongst themselves...
...well, most of them.
The sounds of what seems to be a tense argument are coming from a corner in the back of the common room.
Always curious about the goings-on of others, Alorea tries to focus her senses to hear more of the argument.
You put aside the senses of the mortal world--the taste of the stew in your mouth, the many smells of the mass of bodies all around you, the sensation of the poorly-constructed wooden chair pressing uncomfortably against your backside. With a thought, your ears dive into the eddies of the breeze flowing through the Tipsy Treant, and follow them to the source of the argument.
You find two voices--a man and a woman, almost lost amid the din of conversation all around them. The man's voice is harsh and salty, reminiscent of an ocean storm; the woman's, sultry but smouldering with frustration.
"Three gold for a roll in the sheets?! You charged only a few silvers last time!" He barks.
"Aye, that I did. Considerin' how crass and rough you were with me that time, I'd say it's a fair price." She replies, unimpressed.
"Lavender, that last time's a long while ago now. Besides, I can't be the first sailor who's handled you so after a few--"
"Not the point, sirrah." The woman's voice replies, her tone sharp enough to cut ropes. "Think of it like this--it's your Roughness and Drunkeness taxes. Hells, you ought to be grateful I'm even listenin' to ya."
"Now listen here, you--"
The argument sounds like it's on the verge of spiralling out of control.
"Hm...?" Blaze follows the direction of the noise. Not knowing what it's about, he makes a basic assessment. "So whatever's happening there obviously isn't about us, and we could just leave it be. We've been in enough trouble today I'd reckon. Though if this escalates into a brawl we might end up in trouble anyway."
He sighs. "What do you guys wanna do? For the record, I'm out of spells and my Vision hurts. Used too much of both today, I think."
Gale whispers, the wind carrying her words so that only her friends can hear. "A prostitute is negotiating with a sailor, and it sounds like things are about to get out of control. He might hurt her if we do not intervene!"
Blaze frowns and his eyes slide to his crossbow. "Don't you think her usual clients around here will interfere on her behalf, too? At this time of night, she's probably here for a reason."
"I would not want to see her get hurt,"[smaller] Gale replies, a miniature storm blazing in her eyes. [smaller]"River, will you back me up?"
"Always." River replies, unable to forget an occasion not all that long ago when he was on the wrong end of an amorous sailor's advances. Gale, a man at the time, had backed him up then and its the least either of them can do to return the favor for someone in a similar situation.
Gale and River get up from their seats and move to investigate the argument.
Around the common room's corner, next to a stairway leading up, is a black-haired young woman in a puffy violet skirt and matching corset. A pair of black fishnet stockings adorn her shapely legs, contrasting with her red calf-length boots. A long, muscular tail snakes out from a hole in the back of her skirt, and a pair of black, stubby horns on her head compliments her black-scleraed gold eyes neatly. She's currently arguing with a rough-looking sailor with muttonchops and a sleeveless shirt.
The sailor's arms are tensed up, his hands balled into ham-hocked fists. His eyes glance over at the duo as they approach. "What, you want something now?"
Gale casts guidance on River as they approach. "We want you to leave her alone," she says sternly.
"My sister and I have strong views on certain things." River says, weaving a small orb of water around his hand. "One of them is that when a lady says no, she means no. So how about you leave her alone, I'll buy you a drink and my sister will leave your anatomy intact?"
He's trying too hard to sound reasonable to be properly threatening.
The sailor seems a little more unnerved by Gale's approach than he is by River's attempts to be reasonable.
"Well, hey now, she made her... her case quite clear." He takes a step back and holds his hands up. The horned woman flicks her tail.
"Just a pity it took these fine folk getting involved for you to get it. Clear off." She folds her arms and glares at him.
The sailor turns and leaves, but the duo hears him grumble something about 'bloody sideshows' under his breath as he goes.
Gale watches the sailor until he is good and gone before turning to the tiefling woman. "Good riddance. I can't abide those who lack respect. Are you alright? He didn't hurt you, did he?"
"Why do men always feel like they've got the right to do whatever they want, regardless of what the woman says?" River adds with a long suffering sigh. It's rather incongruous unless you know the full story of the twins, as is the note of hard-won experience in his voice.