Xing and the Stevedores…
”Most people I’ve worked with on the docks prefer blunt honesty. I know I do. And you both look like you’re trying hard not to say something. I’d find it refreshing if you just said it plain.”
The mood at the table turns from jovial to uncomfortable in an instant. Both men stare at Xing silently. Refining her initial assessment, Xing realizes that Anselm looks uncomfortable and Breck looks angry.
Breck turns to Anselm, ”Kid, time to head home. Enjoy your evening.”
Anselm quickly excuses himself and leaves. Breck’s eyes are hard and his gaze never leaves Xing. He pulls a pipe from his pocket and taps it on the tables to clear the ash, asking offhandedly, ”Do you smoke, Xing?”
Drusilla encourages, ”Grandchildren! They are a handful. We wouldn’t mind hearing about your grandchildren, honestly. The misadventures of Gammy’s grandson Dafid I can recite by heart…”
Mama Cookie sits back and gets more comfortable, Well, if you insist, I have nine children, three by each husband, so we should probably start there. The first man I ever had was Harrald. She lapses into a happy mood, though tinged with sadness. Such a sweet man, and strong! The love of my youth, he was. I was with him for ten years before the Owlbear took him. He gave me Steven, Margie, and Theo. They were young when he passed, so I married again quickly. The boys needed a father, and I had a hard time managing by myself, even with help from the town. Her eyes twinkle mischievously, And I was still relatively young and an empty bed wasn't for me. So I married Gorge before too long.
He was a stable sort, a dwarf actually, and absolutely persecuted by his folk for being rather under-endowed, if you get my meaning, but turns out he was just right for me!Anyway, he gave me Lucy and the twins, Bargorak and Dargorak. They're Thunder Blessed and Gorge was so proud. It was the Fever that took poor Gorge from us, but thankfully the kids were old enough that I didn't feel the need to hurry to marry again.
Third was wonderful, loving Simon. He was a simple man, a wonderful guide as my six came of age. He gave me the the best suprise, THREE new little ones; Harry, Ron, and Ginger! That's when I knew I was done, heavens help me! If we kept going the next batch might have been four! These three turned out to have the magic touch too, by Desna!
I finally had a good, long marriage of Fifty years with Simon until he passed naturally.
Sice then I've accumulated 57 grand children and literally more greats than I can shake a stick at!
Gammy asks, [b]”Not to be indelicate but… are you looking for husband number four? There aren’t a lot of suitably mature gentlemen in town but there are definitely a few we could introduce you to…”
Cookie blushes, By Desna no, but I appreciate the offer. I've opened a new chapter in my life, so to speak. Not that I'm against getting swept of my feet, but it's not something I'm looking for.
Odelai rests her needles and stares out the window a moment before returning to her work, [b]”Travel is so lovely – seeing exciting new places, meeting interesting strangers. It definitely keeps one young. For my people, it’s almost a requirement – the Bleaching, don’t you know… But, at a certain age, you want travel and enjoy the comforts of home. Don’t you find that to be true?”
Oh yes. Cookie breathes a wishful sigh. Oh if only I could pick that Baba Yaga's brain. She's got it figured, bringing her house wherever she goes!
Yash and Jagdaz…
Orcy stuff… about wondering why the spirits brought you here.
”Nie oznaczało to zniewagi. Szanuję twoją ścieżkę, Wędrowiec Duchów.” Jagdaz laughs, ”Wiele osób kłóci się o to, dlaczego tu są. Tyle pomysłów słyszałem, ile wejść przez ścianę. Nie mogę odpowiedzieć na to pytanie.”
Ork:"Another world? How is this possible? Who or what had enslaved all of the races in your world? Two branches of humans? How is it that you left your world?"
”Starożytnymi panami niewolników na całym moim świecie były elfy… Wysokie Elfy. Ich wyścig jest już prawie zakończony. Ostatni z nich się chowa... Jak wyszedłem? Próg.”
Sabelina and Senna...
"Where were you when you entered the town? Also, did you enter Threshold because the alternative was worse? That's what happened to us. We were running from something and ended up here, our only path forward."
Senna sits up, intrigued by the bladeswoman’s questions. ”Most recently, I left Cassomir for parts south and west. I stumbled on the town by accident, really. Since I was running low on coin, I planned to stop and earn some more here then continue on. My only ‘worse alternative’ was sleeping on the road instead of a bed for more days and having to hunt game if my hard tack didn’t last til the next town. I wasn’t chased here by anything.”
Yash could not believe what he was hearing, and the shock was evident on his face. At the mention of wysokie elfy, he spit on the floor. He stared at the orc for a brief moment, trying to collect his thoughts.
"Więc... co, jednego dnia walczysz z zjadaczami liści, a następnego to miejsce... to, to... Próg, po prostu się pojawia i znajdujesz się tutaj?"
"Wyznaję, że duchy mówiły o... innych miejscach, innych płaszczyznach, piekłach Otchłani, płaszczyźnie Cienia, ale innych światach... Nie rozumiem. Dlaczego nie wróciłeś do domu? Nie śmierdzisz jak tchórz. Czy nie pragniesz powrotu do swojego świata?"
Cookie and the OBC…
The ladies eat up the intricacies of Cookie’s life, marriages, children, grands, and great grands… not to mention the relationships between all of the siblings and half-siblings. They pepper her with questions while offering comparisons to their own husbands, children, and grandkids. And then there are the variables involved with aging… I mean how does a halfling child with a half-dwarf half-brother deal with how slow or fast the other child ages compared to them! The drama! The ladies drink a lot of ‘tea’ as the afternoon wears on into evening and their chatting continues unabated…
”Oh yes… if only I could pick that Baba Yaga's brain. She's got it figured, bringing her house wherever she goes!”
Odelai, perhaps a bit in her cups, returns to one of Cookie’s initial comments. ”What if Baba Yaga isn’t the only one to figure it out? Let’s say there is a house - no a mansion - that moves… and there are all sorts of folks living there – good and bad. And you, for whatever reason, were offered a chance to go with the house. But the catch is, the house goes where it wants. You can’t steer it. It’s a chance to see the world but not on your own terms. Would you stay on or hop off?”
Sabelina mentally chews on Sabelina's answer for a minute, slightly disappointed that it takes her no closer to answers.
"Hmm, so the town doesn't move from one location to the next too quickly. We're probably in the same location now as when you entered... And maybe the town isn't actively seeking to attract or lure people to it. That would be good. According to my thinking, there are roughly three categories of reasons why the town moves."
Sabelina pauses for a swallow of wine and to collect her thoughts before laying things out for Senna, whether the other woman wants to hear them or not.
"First, it might be due to some external event. It might be a powerful curse, too close a brush with the First World at some point in the past. Magic that went awry... It could even have some mundane natural cause I guess."
"Second, the movement might be intentional and directed. Much like a ship sails place to place as guided by its crew. This would mean someone, or some group within Threshold cause it to happen each time, perhaps selecting a new destination beforehand. If this is so, it is almost certainly done through very powerful magics."
"Third, the city is self-determining. It exercises some will or consciousness of it's very own. In some sense Threshold is 'alive' literally or metaphorically. It is this last category that troubles me the most. If the town thinks or reasons in some sense, is it even possible for us to understand what drives it to do what it does? Also does it need to consume, eat, to maintain it's existence?"
"Are you familiar with carnivorous plants? As plants they can rarely hunt because they are anchored it place. Instead they trap; they lure prey. Maybe the town only consumes a resident occasionally, keeping the rest for later. Maybe it slowly, so slowly, siphons life force for all who live here. Maybe it does not kill at all, but consumes the souls of those who die here. Regardless, I think you'd agree the third category is the most disturbing."
"But if you, and it seems others now as well like those merchants, were not lured or pushed to come in, then maybe the third category of possibilities is not as likely to be truly what is happening here."
By now her wine is finished and she orders another of the same.
"When my glass comes I should go back to trying to get more information with which to piece this all together. Threshold may not be obviously threatening, in fact it would be more effective if it seemed almost too good to be true. But that doesn't mean our lives don't depend on answers."
Sabelina seems to be almost thrumming with excitement and energy by the time she finishes talking.
Yash and Jagdaz…
Jagdaz takes no offense at Yash’s comments, but counters, ”Nie było jasne. Elfy zostały obalone dawno temu, kuzynie. Minęło już ponad 300 lat... ...czy po prostu podążał swoją prawdziwą ścieżką? I czy ja też nie mogłem podążać moją prawdziwą ścieżką?”
”And even if I had left a war for this, would that make me a coward? You follow where the spirits guide you. If they led you here, during a war, would you be a coward or just following your true path? And could I not be following my true path, as well?”
Xing's countenance drops with their reaction, though it's subtle. She watches Anselm leave. "I've ruined your afternoon. I regret that, and I sincerely apologize. It wasn't my intention. Will you apologize to him for me? I'll buy him a drink, if he'd like."
Resignation sets in. She's about to get up and leave when Breck speaks. "No, I don't." She shrugs, "Though it doesn't bother me."
Xing and the Stevedore…
Breck listens but shows little emotion at Xing’s words and overlooks her conclusion. ”Maybe it’s just me or maybe working on a dock everyday but I never like smoking indoors. Let’s smoke on the dock.” He makes a point of stuffing his pipe then heading for the door, clearly expecting Xing to accompany him.
In no apparent hurry, Breck ambles out of the Slattern, past a couple working girls hovering near the entrance. He strolls out to one of the hip-high pilings supporting the dock. He leans against it briefly to light his pipe and take a preliminary puff. He waits until Xing is watching before he purposefully taps the stem of his pipe on a small blank placard that is built into the piling. Then he walks down the pier, past a tied off boat, to the very end, and sits on another high piling, also bearing a blank placard. He glances around, making sure they are alone. He takes a few puffs on his pipe before speaking.
”I get it. You’ve got questions. You’re caught in a strange situation and you wanna sort out what’s what. It’s understandable. But what you did back there… you put that kid in a bad spot. Hell, you put me in a bad spot and I’m not out of it yet. Yeah, our community is unusual. You wouldn’t have those questions if you hadn’t figured that out. Our community has rules too – good rules mostly – that keep things working like they need to.” He taps on the empty placard near his knee. ”What do you see here?”
Sabelina and Senna…
Senna drinks and listens, listens and drinks. Better to think too much than too little.
When Sabelina lapses into an energetic silence, Senna offers, ”All of those options seem possible, even a sentient city. Being a ‘man-eater’ seems like a stretch to me. I wouldn’t think flesh or souls would be typical food for a city as opposed to bricks or stone or wood. ‘You are what you eat’ as they say. Still, I can’t rule it out. We just don’t have enough information, yet.”
Xing pauses before following Breck outside. Years of hard-learned lessons shout caution.
Xing follows him, always maintaining a safe distance from the man. When he sits, she stops, taking in as much around them as she can ... the lack of other people, any available escape route, possible hiding spaces for hidden watchers ... and she stands ready, a coiled spring.
As he speaks, lessons from the Old Man at the Iro-Shu monastery float through her head. See with your eyes, and listen with your ears. But also listen with your mind, your heart, and your experiences.
”What do you see here?”
As she studies and considers, she speaks. "Every place has its own rules... good and bad. I've spent my life an outsider. That often means I'm always in a bad spot. But being an outsider means often not knowing these important rules. In such cases, intent MUST matter. Please know that it was not my intent to put anyone in a bad spot."
She gestures to the placard. "What I've seen of these in other places usually mark something significant. A place. A person. An event. So what does it mean that these are blank? Something significant that cannot be mentioned, but must be remembered? Or maybe that cannot specifically be remembered, but we strive to, anyway? Maybe for the lesson it teaches?" She shrugs, her own eyes meeting his. She greets his gaze with one part challenge, but also something intensely earnest. "Or maybe something an outsider could never guess or understand ... until an insider takes the time to help her out."
Xing and the Stevedore…
Breck listens to Xing but, from the looks that pass across his face, he disagrees with some of her statements. He takes a puff on the pipe and taps out the largely unsmoked bowl into the water. ”Here’s a fact anywhere in the world, not just Threshold… you don’t go from being an outsider to an insider by being pushy. And you just keep pushing. Want answers? Ask the Architect. It is her show.” He blows the remaining ash from his pipe and puts it away as he stands to leave. ”You said you’re sorry. Prove it. Leave Anselm alone. If I hear about you or any of your friends talking to him, I’ll know your apology and your word don’t mean sh!t. That’s a bell you can’t unring. And, in Threshold, your reputation means everything. That’s a bit of insider-to-outsider help for you.”
Having said all that he cares to, Breck gives Xing a wide berth as he walks back up the dock. He pauses briefly to wrap up a loose thread. ”The placard isn’t blank. To every ‘insider’, it shows our covenant, our commitments, and our rules. There’s even a couple notes about you and your friends.” He leaves the dock without looking back.
Xing lets him leave without comment, watching his back as he leaves. After he's gone, she stands for a it, leaning on the piling as she watches the waters and thinks.
Finally settling into some peace about the exchange, she heads back into the Slattern, retaking her seat with Senna and Sabelina.
"I didn't make any friends over there, but he wasn't aggressive or unhelpful."
She pauses, ordering her thoughts and making sure no one is eavesdropping. Regardless, she drops her tone so her voice won't carry beyond those at her table.
"First of all, the older man I spoke to is Breck. He ... asked that we leave his friend Anselm alone. I plan to respect his request. Some secrets are worth respecting."
She pauses and meets Sabelina's eyes for a long moment before continuing.
"He said his community, I assume me meant Threshold, is unusual, but he wouldn't say more. He mentioned me putting them in a bad spot simply by asking questions and asking for simple, honest answers." She pauses to consider that last, but if she comes to any conclusions, she doesn't share them.
Xing hikes a thumb towards the door they exited, "Out on that dock-front, there are signs. They look empty to me. Breck said they weren't blank. To those on the inside, it shows their covenant, commitments, and rules. He said they even had some notes about us."
She pauses, then finishes, her voice getting even slightly quieter. "And he said if we want answers, we should ask the Architect. I believe he said, 'It is her show'"
She shrugs, "That's the best I could find. And I really would appreciate if you all respected Breck's request to leave Anselm alone. If it becomes necessary to approach Anselm, I will volunteer to go through Breck first. If that decision proves dangerous or problematic, I take responsibility."
"Robię, podążam za duchem dziadka. Nigdy nie walczyłem w wojnie, ale mówisz prawdę. Wszyscy musimy podążać własną ścieżką. Nie jesteś tchórzem. Potrzeba wielkiej siły, aby już nie podążać. A czy znalazłeś ten... wyższy cel?"
"I do, I follow where grandfather spirit leads. I have never fought a war, but you speak true. We must all follow our own path. You are no coward. It takes great strength to no longer follow. And have you found this...greater purpose?"
Odelai, perhaps a bit in her cups, returns to one of Cookie’s initial comments. ”What if Baba Yaga isn’t the only one to figure it out? Let’s say there is a house - no a mansion - that moves… and there are all sorts of folks living there – good and bad. And you, for whatever reason, were offered a chance to go with the house. But the catch is, the house goes where it wants. You can’t steer it. It’s a chance to see the world but not on your own terms. Would you stay on or hop off?”
Cookie considers for a moment. Oh my. That is a good question. The thought is wonderfully mysterious, I'll give it that. But the uncertainty...
She ponders for a moment more, taking the question as more than hypothetical. One who's has as many as Ofelai rarely had the wherewithal to ask frivolous questions is that tone.Even as a drifter on the road there is a certain assurance that you are going somewhere. Even if you don't know where, it's you that's going. It's voluntary.
This house you can use or ride to travel the world... Would it ever go anywhere hopeless?
Yash and Jagdaz…
orcy stuff
Jagdaz deflates somewhat. ”Jeszcze nie wiem. Nie mam ducha dziadka, który by mnie prowadził, więc moja ścieżka jest błotnista. Wiem, że to, co robię, co my robimy…” he makes a sweeping gesture with his clawed hand. ”to, co robimy istotne tutaj... To miejsce, ci ludzie – czymkolwiek są – my, ludzie, krasnoludy, gnolle, nawet elfy… wszyscy są tutaj jednym Plemieniem. I zaczynam czuć, że też jestem częścią tego Plemienia.”
Cookie and the OBC…
”This house you can use or ride to travel the world... Would it ever go anywhere hopeless?”
Odelai’s continues knitting, like you are just discussing an unseasonable turn in the weather. ”Hypothetically? Hmmm… Let’s say you talked with a couple of the residents that have been with the house for a long time, maybe from the beginning, and they say ‘We’ve never gone anywhere hopeless... yet.’ But everyone who’s rode the house for a while can tell you that the house goes to some very, very dangerous places. Not all the time, mind you, but it happens. And there have been some close scrapes for the residents and the house itself.”
She sips at her tea, "Oh, this tea has quite gone to my head."
Mama Cookie smiles. Dangerous and Hopeless are two very different things. Danger is an old friend and more recent companion of mine. However, joining a hopeless endeavor. Well that's just silly.
So, to your question. Yes. I would. Traveling with your home sounds like a delightfully novel experience. At this she's gives a significant look to Odelai the gnome.
"Who's Anselm?" Sabelina asks.
"Anyway, I doubt it's either of them", she inclines her head to indicate the pair of prostitutes.
"There's still work to be done." Sabelina gets up from the table and approaches the pair at their table.
"You are such a divine pairing, I hardly know which way to look! It's as if I'm in the presence of Cayden Cailean and Shelyn at the same time!"
Sabelina bows deeply, "I am your most humble servant Sabelina Kinbrace-Valognes", and avails herself of a chair at their table.
She looks at the woman and murmurs "the ease of your pose..."
Shifting her eyes to the man she adds "the grace of your silhouette..."
Flicking her eyes back to the woman Sabilina continues. "The way that your shoulders meet your slender neck..."
Sabelina sighs and draws a pair of roses from inside her blousy left sleeve. She freshens them with Prestidigitation and offers one of each of them.
"A small gift, in return for letting me bask in your respective glories. I still remain in your debt."
Yash leaned back in his chair.
"Nie bój się bracie. Cel znajduje nas wszystkich, gdy jest gotowy. Wcześniej wspomniałeś o pilnowaniu karawan. Dokąd jadą te przyczepy kempingowe? Albo pochodzą z? Co niosą? Wielokrotnie walczyłeś o te przyczepy kempingowe? A przeciwko czemu? Dobrze, że znalazłeś to miejsce, nowe plemię dla siebie. Modlę się do duchów, abym także znalazł nowe plemię. Nigdy nie jestem sam, bo duchy są ze mną, ale znalezienie nowego plemienia, takiego, które mnie zaakceptuje, też byłoby dobre."
Sabelina, Xing, and Senna…
Senna watches the bladeswoman’s latest threesome with respect and amusement. To Xing, she quips, ”Daaamn, she works quick. If I had a gold piece we could bet on whether or not she beds those two.”
Cookie and the OBC…
”Yes. I would. Traveling with your home sounds like a delightfully novel experience.” At this she's gives a significant look to Odelai.
The gnome chuckles, ”If I ever meet Baba Yaga, I’ll let her know.”
Sabelina and the Pros…
As Sabelina first approaches the prostitutes, she has the distinct impression based on the looks they give her, that they are about to tell her to shove off because they aren’t working. However, even these jaded professionals find her approach so charming, they can’t really object. They thank her for the roses and insist that she sit between them.
”You can bask all you like here…” Violetta practically purrs, ”Or we could find somewhere private for a more intimate bask.” She lets the silk robe drop from her shoulder. ”I assure you, you haven’t begun to really appreciate me yet.”
Donal slides a glass of wine to Sabelina and smoothly interjects, ”Violetta is exquisite and gifted… That said, I have some talents you may appreciate deeply. As it would be unfair to force you to choose, why don’t we accompany you upstairs where you can fairly judge our merits singly and together.”
Someone’s toe is tracing a lazy pattern on Sabelina’s calf and she can’t really tell if it is Donal’s or Violetta’s toe.
Yash and Jagdaz…
orcy stuff
” Strzegmy karawan Thresholda. Kupcy kupują, sprzedają i wymieniają towary, gdziekolwiek się udamy. To, co tu powszechne, gdzie indziej jest egzotyczne. Powinieneś iść zobaczyć Rynek, wtedy zrozumiesz. Przez większość czasu problemów jest niewiele. Czasami zdarzają się bandyci.”
As Sabelina quickly leaves, Xing debates the idea of following her.
But when she begins her conversation with the two, Xing’s eyebrows rise a little. Then a little more. As Sabelina continues her introduction, Xing’s eyebrows just keep on climbing, until she looks across the table at Senna … her face in a comical mix of shock and surprise.
”Daaamn, she works quick. If I had a gold piece we could bet on whether or not she beds those two.”
”I’m suddenly glad I didn’t leave my seat to go with her.”
Shaking her head, Xing considers the rest of the evening.
Cookie and the OBC…
”Yes. I would. Traveling with your home sounds like a delightfully novel experience.” At this she's gives a significant look to Odelai.The gnome chuckles, ”If I ever meet Baba Yaga, I’ll let her know.”
But that quite enough about me! If love to hear more about each of you! Mama sips her "tea" and waits for someone to voulenteer.
A cynic would believe Sabelina to simply be working on getting information from a couple of potential informants. While the cynic wouldn't be completely wrong, they would be at least half wrong. Sabelina deeply appreciates beauty; it's her sincerity that makes her successful at this moment.
Sabelina thanks Donal for the glass he offers her and takes a sip, which is harder than usual because the toe massage on her calf is exciting enough to cause her throat to tighten.
Their offer, and her faith in their ability to fully deliver on their promises, makes Sabelina's cheeks turn a little pink, but she doesn't lower her eyes from them or falter.
"You are are both truly kind as well. I don't doubt for a moment that private time spent together with both of you would be the most exquisite experience of my life. And it would have to be both of you, choosing between you would be like having to separate the moon from the stars."
"But your offer comes at a time when I must admit to being financially embarrassed. I've only arrived in Threshold hours ago, and haven't quite yet made my fortune here you see. I cannot afford even one of you, and as I said, it would do violence to beauty to separate such a perfect pair. I'm sure I will look back many years from now and vividly remember the bitterness of my poor luck this day."
While this is true, Sabelina also has always (for so long as the thought had even been one she had conceived of) that where intimate encounters are concerned, she does not pay. She knows her worth, and is quite confident that she will always give more than she receives (although she would concede the current case to very probably be the exception to the rule). If anything, and she would not consider it, she should be the one who is paid. This does not imply however that Sabelina really knows all that much about the question. Her track record regarding such things is far shorter and sparser than she would ever admit to.
Almost absentmindedly Sabelina raises a hand to Violetta's ear and gently, slowly runs the back of her extended finder along its edge.
"So delicate, such a sublime shape."
Xing and Senna…
”I’m suddenly glad I didn’t leave my seat to go with her.”
”Oh, I don’t know. You could have made it a foursome… for tenis* or whatnot.”
Xing and Senna... and MORE?
With drinking, eating, and talking, time creeps away almost unnoticed. More people begin to enter the tavern as their work days end and the sun heads for the horizon. As Xing and Senna debate tenis… the plump and attractive middle-aged woman you noted in the office when you first entered, slides up to the table and introduces herself.
”Welcome to the Near-Sighted Slattern. I’m Salli, your host and the proprietor. If you folks are just here for drinks and food, you are welcome. But we also offer other services. If you’d like, I’d be happy to give you a quick tour and answer your questions. What do you say?”
Cookie and the OBC…
Drusilla ‘just call me Dru’ pipes up. ”Well! My daughter-in-law who – by her own admission – married ‘up’ into my family when she took the bands with my Kavin… well, she is now turning her nose up at a pretty lass that my grandson – Kavin Jr – is sweet on and calling her a social climber, just because she’s from a ‘lowly’ family… As if her family was any better when she started batting her eyes at Kavin! Honestly!”
And so the ladies of the OBC return to the labyrinthine dramas of their families and plot the machinations to smooth the waters, or ‘right the ship’, or just decide who they have to wheedle to settle matters in an acceptable manner…
Sabelina and the Pros…
Sabelina raises a hand to Violetta's ear… ”So delicate, such a sublime shape.”
The half-elf presses a little closer, brilliant hazel eyes regarding Sabelina. Her delicate fingers run along Sabelina’s hand holding her wine glass. She says quietly, ”My ears aren’t even my most sublime feature.”
”But your offer comes at a time when I must admit to being financially embarrassed. I've only arrived in Threshold hours ago, and haven't quite yet made my fortune here you see. I cannot afford even one of you…”
Violetta nods, disappointed. ”I understand… It’s a shame. Donal and I almost never get to play together. It takes someone exceptional to… ah inspire us.” To emphasize the point, Sabelina feels a hand (probably Donal’s?) massaging her knee and brushing across her inner thigh.
As if an idea has struck her, Violetta perks up. To her friend, she whispers quietly, ”She’s new, likely road-weary, probably doesn’t have a place to stay, and we’re like a welcoming committee. What do you think?” The two professionals carry out an entire conversation purely with subtle gestures, finally concluding with Violetta turning her charms and focus back to Sabelina. The bladeswoman has the brief, uncomfortable feeling of a field mouse seeing an owl descending on it. ”We'd like to offer you a steep discount…”
Donal interjects huskily, ”Let’s call it a very, very deep discount…”
Violetta shivers slightly in remembrance, ”He is not wrong. We’d like to offer you a very deep discount on a night you will remember until you die. We have an enchanting room with silk sheets and beautiful tapestries. There's a scented bath to get the road dirt off you… and we’d love to bathe you. Donal can massage the remaining kinks out after your bath. He is a skilled masseur. And then you’d have us all night to play or cuddle with, as you choose.” She runs a nail lightly up Sabelina’s unoccupied thigh, ”We’ll take care of your needs and sate your desires. Isn’t that, aren’t we, worth 10 little pieces of gold?”
Sabelina's confidence does begin to ebb some during Donal and Violetta's delicious onslaught. She is in over her head and nervous, knowing for certain her own charms and skills are novice compared to theirs.
She is also absolutely gobsmacked by the price they set, so unimaginably low that only the question of whether she dares to accept so many new possible experiences at once or not. Plus a bath, a massage, silks. Her family still had some silks back when she was little.
She does dare.
"I'm yours. I'll sell possessions if I must. Take me and do as you will."
Sabelina and the Pros…
”Take me and do as you will.”
Donal nibbles on Sabelina’s neck and whispers, ”Oh, I absolutely will.”
Violetta smiles like a cat grown fat on eating canaries, clearly thrilled. And both of the pair’s questing hands, fingers, and toes start fulfilling some of their promises. The rest happens in a bit of a blur for Sabelina. She is whisked out of her chair and up two flights of stairs. The decision itself made her heady and Violetta’s perfume didn’t help as it wafted around her as Donal’s and Violetta’s bodies brush against her as they escort her through a lovely sitting room. She catches a glimpse of the inlet through a large window. And then they are heading down a corridor towards a red door. The hands of the two artisans of pleasure are all over her, teasing her deliciously and loosening every button, fastener, and buckle of her outfit. Her clothes are practically falling off her when the red door shuts behind her with a click. In a moment, she is led into a private suite and Sabelina’s clothes pool on the floor topped quickly with the silken robes of her soon-to-be intimates next to the steaming scented bath which could certainly fit more than one person…
Here we shall leave you, gentle reader. Could we accurately describe the festivities that long night? Perhaps. But could we do them justice more than your imaginations? I think not.
”If you’d like, I’d be happy to give you a quick tour and answer your questions. What do you say?”
Xing shakes her head at Senna's joke, but stands up. "Not my style," she mutters.
Then she steps over to the slattern's owner. "I'd love to learn a little more about this place. Will you be showing us only your establishment? Or some of the surrounding areas?"
Regardless of the answer, Xing seems interested. She hikes her heavy pack, "Is there a secure place I can leave this while you show us around?"
Mama listens attentively and tries to go with the conversational flow. It's not perfect because there are a lot of inside references and short hand, but she does her best and doesn't pry, apologizing where needed when she accidentally runs into a sensitive subject.
But for the most part MaMa Cookie goes with the flow for now. It's been a long day, and her old bones need a rest.
Once evening comes she has tikes to wrangle. It's been lovely, ladies, but dinner calls. she finally says with clear sincerity. I didn't come alone, after all. A lot of the caravan's children are refugees or orphans. It's dreadful, but I'm all they have in some cases. Well. I bid you good night. It was wonderful meeting you all!
From there she makes her way back out to the caravan and waits patiently for Lady to make her way own way back. While she does she gets to cook fire going and retrieves her portion of crab that she scuttled away earlier today. She adds in the few small animals the lady was able to catch before all the excitement and a few of their sparse remaining vegetables. The sounds of campfire and cooking soon waft over the area.
With a sharp whistle that echoes far she summons the caravan children and they all come running. They all know the routine and wash up at one of the water barrels before sitting in a circle around the fire with little bowls at the ready. Mama cookie serves each in turn.
”If you’d like, I’d be happy to give you a quick tour and answer your questions. What do you say?”
Xing shakes her head at Senna's joke, but stands up. "Not my style," she mutters.
Then she steps over to the slattern's owner. "I'd love to learn a little more about this place. Will you be showing us only your establishment? Or some of the surrounding areas?"
Regardless of the answer, Xing seems interested. She hikes her heavy pack, "Is there a secure place I can leave this while you show us around?"
Slattern Tour…
Cookie and Senna join Xing for the tour. Salli has Xing (and anyone else) drop their bags in the corner near the musicians. ”Your gear will be safe here.” She gives the musician on the strange instrument a look of mock gravity. ”Anything happens to this gear, I’m takin’ a bite out of your ass.”
”Will you be showing us only your establishment? Or some of the surrounding areas?”
Salli smooths her dress, thinking. ”I never thought about walking folks around town. That might be a business opportunity. Let me give that some thought, while I take you through the Slattern.”
Salli leads you up the spiral staircase while providing a light, friendly narrative... The second floor is marked by a large central sleeping/sitting room and a few private quarters. It is clean with woven mat beds. Clearly, the Slattern is also an Inn. "Most of our guests stay here. It's affordable. Unfortunately, the sound carries up from the tavern. On raucous nights, it can be a bit hard to sleep unless you are dead tired or dead drunk. A bed here will cost you 2 Silver per night, or 5 Silver for one of the rooms."
You mount the next set of stairs and arrive at the third floor. There is a comfortable sitting room with a window on one side and a variety of private rooms of different sizes evident down a long hall that seems to stretch for three-quarters of the boat's length. At the end of the corridor is a red door. The sounds from below are well muffled. Sitting unobtrusively in the window sill is a guard in the livery of the Inn. Salli answers the unspoken questions. "We don't usually have trouble here and the door-guard ensures that. When you pay a gold for a night's sleep, we try to ensure you get what you pay for."
She walks you briefly into an adjacent bedroom. It is 10' square, well appointed, with a large feather-bed, nightstand, and a window overlooking the inlet. The door is sturdy oak. After you've had a chance to inspect it, she leads you into the hall and back towards the staircase, saying over her shoulder. "The brothel is on the other side of the red door. The quality and price of the girls and boys goes up on each floor." You revise your opinion. The Slattern is a tavern, an inn, and a bordello.
You mount a set of carpeted stairs - arrive at the 'top' of the boat – and are greeted with a luxurious sitting room of rugs, wall hangings, and leather furniture. The ceiling has a gentle slope conveyed by the curving hull of the ship. On both sides of the room sunlight streams in through large glass windows that look out on the ocean and hills. No sound from below penetrates to this level. Again, a corridor stretches away fully half the ship's length and terminates at a red door. The guard here is also in livery and has the look of a man who really knows how to handle himself in a fight. He nods politely.
Salli announces the obvious, "Top Floor - where our most honored guests stay." She rings a chime and a beautiful young woman and equally handsome young man step out from a room down the hall, leaving the door open. She is all of 5' tall with wavy blonde hair that flows past her rear and enough curves that you have NO doubt as to her gender. The boy is 6’ tall with dark hair and chiseled, well, everything. Their maid and butler outfits are designed to reveal more than be practical uniforms. They both move quickly towards the group and curtsy/bow, revealing tantalizing hints of even more of themselves.
Salli introduces them, ”This is Elsa and Olan. They are the floor attendants and see to the needs of the guests on this floor exclusively. If you want a bath, a meal, a massage, or a companion, they will sort you out.” She leads the group down the hall to the open room. It is 15' x 20’. All of the ceiling has a nice slope. The entire wall overlooking the ocean is gone. A few feet in, a full-sized set of glass doors segregate the room itself from what becomes a private balcony facing the water. The doors are propped open, allowing a breeze to blow through the room. On the balcony are a small table and chairs with a bowl of fresh fruit. The furnishings in the room are equally lavish with a four-poster bed, wardrobe, nightstand, leather couch, and a claw-footed bathing tub separated by a privacy screen. Salli smiles, letting the room speak for itself. After you satisfy your curiosity...
Back in the sitting room, she smiles warmly, ”A suite on this level runs 3 gold pieces per night, without gratuities for Elsa and Olan. Well! That concludes our tour! If you want to stay with us, let me know. If our prices aren’t to your liking, that’s fine. I’d recommend you visit the Rustic for more financially sensible accommodations. I’ll be happy to have someone walk you over there. Finding the right alley can be something of a trick, particularly after dark. May I answer any questions for you about our services or Dockside or other venues in Threshold you might enjoy?”
Mama takes in each floor with increasing levels of astonishment. Nothing like this was even close to available in her home village. She felt like she wasn't even supposed to step on the carpets in the upper floors! And the price! She couldn't even imagine having so much money that you would spend so much gold just for place to sleep!
Thank you, Sulli. You really do have an amazing place here! I have much to look after with the caravan, however, so I will probably be spending the night there. At least for one night.
All the ladies cluck about how much they've enjoyed meeting Cookie and hope to see her again soon.
Gammy frowns. "Refugees and orphans? That's terrible. If you need food, a place to sleep or any help, please let me know. I can round up whatever you need. Your charges fall under the umbrella of one or another of our charities."
Yash stood up, grabbing what was left of his food and shoving it into his pack.
"Wskaż mi ten Rynek. Sam to zobaczę. To był honorowy brat. Niech duchy prowadzą twoją ścieżkę."
Yash…
On the move!
The orc points vaguely north-west. “Podążaj ulicą High Street, a znajdziesz ją.”
Yash finds the High Street without a problem and follows it deeper into the town itself. He has about an hour before the sun sinks below the horizon. That said, a number of folks are already lighting permanently installed lanterns along the road and throughout the town. And many folks are still working in their shops or hustling about on affairs of their own, leaving the half-orc with the impression that Threshold doesn’t shut down after dark.
Further up the High Street, the warren of lopsided buildings that characterize Dockside give way to slightly more organized (and plumb) buildings transected by less drunken walking paths and even some patches of green in an area called Low Gate. There are more residences and less shops or hustle than in Dockside. Low Gate is neatly bisected by a modest hedge (no more than 6’ high and 3’ wide) running east-west with the High Street cutting through it along with a myriad of small ‘animal trails’ that were made by residents who want to get through the hedge without having to use the High Street.
Passing the hedge, Yash hears children laughing and running. In a moment, from further up High Street, the Spirit Walker sees a herd, or perhaps a gaggle, of children racing towards him preceded by the source of their delight. Racing pell-mell down the street is Cookie’s fox, like a jockey, riding Senna’s tattooed pig. As they sprint past the gob-smacked half-orc, he hears the fox drunkenly cry, ”Onward, valiant steed!”
The children swarm past the half-orc trying to catch up to the speedy fox and pig.
Yash…
Yash continues along the road as Low Gate transitions into Market Square. The housing, shops, and paths are even more orderly than in Low Gate. But before Yash can enter the Square, his path is blocked and his senses assaulted by a ludicrously large, tangled, knot of colorful tents, booths, stalls, hawkers, gawkers, sellers, animals, fruits, traders, cooking foods, drinks, customers, children, and probably a cutpurse or twelve. The entire assembly spills from the lower end of a massive green space and promenade to clog the roadway and several of the paths between the buildings. A large swooping canvas sign hung between posts on either side of the road simply declares:
Xing is quiet as they tour the Slattern, nodding reservedly along with Salli's descriptions. The lowest rentable rooms gets an accustomed glance, though Xing is noticeably more interested when Salli talks about the quiet on the "modest" accommodations for 1g per night.
Despite the obvious fatigue in her eyes and bearing, the Minatan woman checks out a bit when they get to the top floor. She tries to smile encouragingly, but it's obvious the drifter isn't interested in all the "extra" the top floor affords.
When an opportunity presents itself, she gets Salli's attention. "I would like a room on the one gold floor." She stifles a yawn, trying to smother it with the back of a hand before continuing. "Usually I would happily sleep rougher, but I could use the quiet." She shrugs, "It's been an eventful few weeks."
"Thank you for the tour," she says as she follows Salli to her room for the evening. "I wonder, what can you tell me about Breck? I fear I've offended him, and would like a chance to make it up to him, if possible."
For a moment, Yash stood transfixed. He had been in camps, even a few villages, but he had never encountered what was before him now. The sights, the sounds, and especially the smells all served to overwhelmed him.
Eventually he shook himself out of his paralysis and began to meander around the tents and stall, stopping now and then to peruse the wares hocked by the merchants. Will little coin left, there wasn't much he could buy, and less that he actually needed, but it was the experience itself that he appreciated.
As he wandered freely through the bazaar, he began to wonder to himself. Could it be? Could the orc be speaking true? That a place truly existed where it didn't matter what you were? That everyone was accepted?
Having been chased out of numerous towns and villages, he had never dreamed of finding a real home. The road had served him well enough, and grandfather had always lead him true...but now?
Slattern Tour…
"I would like a room on the one gold floor."
Salli exchanges a key for the coin with a nod of thanks. ”Number 6 is yours. It will be quiet, we have very few guests on that floor at the moment.”
"I wonder, what can you tell me about Breck? I fear I've offended him, and would like a chance to make it up to him, if possible."
”Breck?” She considers, ”He’s worked the docks for some years now. He’s generally alright, doesn’t cause trouble… but he can be a bit prickly at times. He’s like a mother hen to his crew - meaning the other stevedores. I’ve never known him to nurse a grudge for long. If you’re passing through, I wouldn’t worry about it. If you might be here longer, I’d stay out of his hair for a few days before trying to get on his good side.”
Yash…
Yash roams the bazaar pondering Jagdaz’s incredible statements. He sees no definitive proof that this town is a tribe… but it is true that no stall-keeper or customer shows any sign of fear or revulsion at the half-orc wandering in their midst. And if he were being honest, there were stranger and more nightmarish creatures with far worse reputations moving among the stalls. And yet they caused no more upset than Yash did.
And while Yash had only limited experience of the countries and creatures of Golarion, he’s certain many things he sees as he wanders through the bazaar do not come from beneath Golarion’s sun. Fruits don’t just float in the air, tethered by their purple stalks. Four-legged spiders the size of dogs should cast shadows under bright light… under any light, really. And where could a cactus that constantly burns like a sun come from but an elemental plane? And what humanoid race on Golarion had bluish skin and a double set of cat-like eyes along with some sort of translucent plate as the top part of its skull?
Slattern Tour…
Senna checks her money pouch then says, a bit glumly, ”I’ll take a room for 5 Silvers, thanks.”
”…any questions about Dockside or other venues in Threshold?”
”Well, we’re new here. What would you recommend? What’s interesting or unique or intriguing?”
Slattern Tour…
”What would you recommend? What’s interesting or unique or intriguing?”
Salli considers, ”Hmm… It really depends on your interests. But, I’d say, if you want normal equipment, buy it in Dockside. For unusual gear and food, go to Market Square. You should visit Market Square and the Bazaar, in any case. They’re worth seeing. I also like the Museum of Unnatural History, that’s near High Gate… but they might be closed, changing out exhibits or something like that. And, you should really head to the end of the High Street to visit Crossroads and the Campanile – the bell tower.”