"Oh, they came in all kinds of colours. Snow white, splotchy grey, desert brown... the biggest one had reddish-brown fur and an axe that looked like it was cobbled together from bits of scrap."
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"Well... grey skin. Pale violet hair, eyes, and tattoo lines. Wore a suit of chain that exposed her arms. Carries around some sort of techno-gun that sets people on fire." Garmen cringes. The memory his description evoked in him was visibly unpleasant. "Had some kinda holy symbol of a god I didn't recognize. I didn't pay attention to what she called it--too busy tryin' not to get myself shot."
Garmen looks down at Sia's hand, and tentatively takes it. His palm is starting to shake a bit. "Real pretty words there, Ms. Baine." He clears his throat. "You'll find her at the bottom of those ruins under the Hill. She brought herself a whole bunch of orcs, rabbits, and her own faith with her."
Garmen takes another shot of alcohol and winces as it goes down. "Because the creepy android had way more muscle than I could ever have, and she basically threatened to have me dragged off in the middle of the night as a 'sacrifice' for her god, or whatever. Her god had plans for this pit of a town--plans that involved doing something to the Torch, using that machine she stored in my warehouse and doing Brigh knows what to the Torch underneath the Hill." "Oh, sure, she 'did me the courtesy of asking politely'. Pretty easy to do that when a rabbit the size of a grown man is sharpening his axe on what was left of one of your best thieves' skull." He gives the small Inlé a dirty look. "Never mind the fact that if I ever told anyone, she'd know. Or so she claimed, at least."
Garmen breathes a sigh of relief and nods. "Follow me, then." He leads the party (with guards in tow) to the office the power relay was sitting next to. It's a spacious one, with a set of stairs leading up to the warehouse catwalks on the southern end of the room. A large wooden table with four chairs in various states of disrepair sits in the middle of the room, with what appears to be a mixture of a desk and a bar sits against the northern wall. Garmen walks behind the bar and ducks beneath it for a few moments, retrieving a bottle of dark red liquor, several small glasses, and a burlap pouch that makes a *clacking* noise when moved around. "Now, as to why I suddenly decided to turn stag on the Torch, so to speak..." Garmen pours himself a shot of dark red liquid and drinks it down in one gulp. "...believe me when I say that it sure as the Hells wasn't my idea. Kinda hard to be my idea when this lady waltzes on into my home, backed by a bunch of orcs and mutant rabbits."
Garmen opens his mouth to say something, and is interrupted by the northern doors of the warehouse opening. In stride three guards--the two from the south side, and one more. The two southern guards are bloodied and bruised, but still standing, while the newcomer looks rather shaken and mildly roughed up. They approach from the north and glare at Garmen, wordlessly sizing him up. Garmen looks at the guards, then back at the party. "Tell you what--I want to cut a deal. You let me get some things from my office, and I'll tell you everything."
When Sia pushes the button, the device's lights go out and the machine makes a *WHHHHiiiirrrrrrrrrrr* as it powers down. Stepping into the doors of the warehouse, flanked by a pair of rough-looking men with loops of rope around their knuckles, is Garmen. He taps a sharp-looking rapier sitting at his hip and sighs. "Figures something like this would happen sooner or later." He looks down at the bloodied corpse of Georg and at his leopard, still snacking away on the meats Celen offered him. "Well, this is a little awkward, don't you think?"
Garmen gives the packet a bit of a disappointed look. "Eh, that's handled by the exchange office." "Are you alright Sia?" "I hope so. I don't think Councillor Baine will appreciate it if she gets sick from two glasses of wine." With that, Garmen slinks back upstairs.
Garmen awkwardly clears his throat. "Er... yes, thank you, lass. I forgot about that one."
Garmen gives Inlé a perplexed look. "I only gave her one glass of wine..."
"I'm quite sure, lass." Garmen reaches a hand out to the door. "And I don't doubt it would be." He opens the door back to the noises of machines and raucous patrons, and carefully guides you down the stairs alongside him. As you're halfway down the stairs, he leans in to whisper in your ear... "Come see me when you've sobered up, if you're still interested. I'd be happy to... receive... you then." He gives you a knowing smirk.
Surprisingly enough, Garmen flinches when you tumble into his lap. It may have been from your sudden landing in his lap or something else altogether. "Eh... lass..." He gently helps you off of his lap and to your feet. "...I've been called many things, ever since I opened the Silverdisk Hall. A cheat, a liar, a difficult boss to work for. Some of those names I'll wager I've even earned." "But one thing I will *never* be called is a scoundrel who takes advantage of drunken young women." He carefully slides an arm around your side and starts leading you to his office door. "Let's get you back to your friends, eh?"
Garmen's coquettish smile actually wavers for a moment. He glances between your chest, your drunken eyes, and the door behind you. "That would depend, entirely, on what you feel like doing, lass."
Garmen chuckles and shrugs. "Mine is a face lots of ladies compliment. I suppose I've my mother to thank for that."
"Depends on how much you drink, and how much you're willing to suffer when it's run its course." Garmen looks between you, your glass and the wine bottle on his desk. "Just be sure you don't drink too much--it's got a habit of turning your stomach half-circle when you do. And then you, well..." He shrugs and starts to put the wine bottle away. "I hadn't expected you to react this strongly to it."
Garmen blinks in surprise as you gulp down your glass of wine in one swig. "Oh, it's quite alright." He takes a sip of his wine. "Is this your first time tasting red wine, lass? It's normally meant to be savoured, taking a bit at a time." He arches an eyebrow at you when you start slurring your words.
Garmen brushes it off. "Oh, it's not a big deal." He uncorks the bottle of wine and pours himself a glass. "Some wine, perhaps, for your nerves?"
Garmen notices your change in expression, and his own turns from one of self-indulgent pride to confusion. He reaches underneath his desk and produces a bottle of red wine and a pair of glasses, setting them on the desk before turning to see what you're staring at. "Something about that painting catch your eye, eh?" He taps a finger on the desk. "Depicts the last battle of the Black Sovereign of Numeria, it does. Brigh knows I wouldn't want to face down a beast like that..." He turns to you and waves a hand in front of your face. "You alright, there?"
Garmen leads you up the stairs, and the sounds of raucous patrons give way to the sounds of ringing bells and strange mechanical tones. Arrayed against the walls are several grey boxes with red levers attached to them, their fronts brightly lit and covered in rapidly moving images of fruit, flames, numbers and occasional words. A slot at the bottom of the machines occasionally disgorges silverdisks stamped in black ink, but more often than not they sit empty, to the barely-noticed irritation of the patrons using them. The owner comes to a fine mahogany door flanked by two burly men in studded leathers with ropes tied around their fists, and he nods at them. They don't stop him as he opens the door and ushers you inside. The interior of the room is lavishly furnished, in contrast to the blend of utilitarian and decorative wall hangings and carpets of the common room and upstairs machine room. A stately bookcase sits against one wall, stacked with books from top to bottom. A large painting sits behind an ornately carved maple desk; the painting depicts a group of Kellid warriors armed with spears and axes racing to attack a massive, metal monster that resembles a scorpion. The metal scorpion has a bright red eye, and its tail is firing what appears to be a fireball, kicking up a great deal of dirt in the picture's wasteland background. "You've seen our slot machines, our common room, and now... my office." Garmen pulls up a chair for you and settles in behind his desk. "What do ya think?"
Garmen offers you his arm. "Aye, that I could, since you've asked so nicely." He then begins to lead you up the stairs and away from the main gambling floor.
Garmen shrugs. "Ehh, if business keeps up like this, odds are I'll have enough money to start over elsewhere, if worst comes to worst. Of course, if we've got daring young explorers like yourself..." He smirks at you as you lay a hand on his arm. "...on the case, I think I'll be in good hands nevertheless." "Still, I'm glad that you're doing so well." "Indeed." He glances up the wooden stairs leading to the second floor. "I've even managed to make myself an office worthy of my success."
"How has your business been Garmen? Has the torch going out hurt it any?" Garmen grins at you and sweeps an arm around the expansive gambling hall. "Certainly not. Before, I've only attracted ruin raiders, scavengers, and the occasional itinerant gambler. Nowadays, more and more people are bringing in plenty of gold to spend." "I'm considering expanding the building somewhat with all the profit I've made." His tone is filled with self-congratulatory pride.
Garmen looks over his shoulder as Edynn points out the thief at the tables. His eyes narrow and he gives a subtle nod to a couple of nearby bouncers, who start converging on the man. "Rest assured, thieving is not tolerated in these walls. He won't be a problem anymore." He turns back to the party and spreads his hands wide. "Please, don't let that little incident dissuade you from having a good time at the Silverdisk Hall. The floor is yours to enjoy." His declaration is punctuated by several meaty-sounding punches and yelps of surprise and pain as the would-be pickpocket is abruptly introduced to Mr. Ulreth's no-stealing policy and dragged off the gambling floor.
Edynn's Perception Roll:
You cast a wary eye over the patrons of Silverdisk Hall, and for a moment you don't see anything out of the ordinary. Aside from the bouncers standing quietly in the corners of the establishment, everything looks fine...
...except you notice a shifty-looking young man dressed in green trying to lift a purse from a burly and drunk-looking half-orc at one of the dice tables. "Business has picked up, it seems." "Aye, that it has. Pity about what happened to the Torch, but it's the least I can do for folks around here--providing them an escape from their newfound worries." The groomed man shrugs a bit. "Well, give Hepzibah my best regards when you see her again, eh? And tell her no hard feelings from me, if you would." "I don't think I've met you before and you seem to know us already." "Yes. How is that?" "Word about the lot of you being the latest expedition to go under the Torch gets around quickly." Garmen glances over at Sia (his eyes looking a bit lower than her face before snapping back to her eyes). "And when ol' Khonnir was hauled back into town from whatever hole he found himself in? Folks can't stop talking about it." "Heroes like yourselves oughta take a chance to unwind after putting in that much work." He hitches a thumb over his shoulder. "Just hand those vouchers of yours in at the exchange office over there--Rylinn will take care of the rest."
The interior of the Silverdisk Hall is considerably better decorated than its exterior--the walls are made of carved mahogany, the floors carpeted with fine maroon felt. The lighting in the room is provided by several wall sconces with glowing balls of warm orange light in them. Several tables are clustered together within walking distance of a long, low bar on the northern end of the main room. Patrons of many races and walks of life are crowded into this place of risk-taking and recreation, some of them drinking and cheering. A few gambling tables are in the western portion of the room, down a flight of stairs into a green-carpeted section. The staff here are dressed differently compared to the bouncers--a white shirt, black pants, black vest and black tie for the men, and a white shirt, black skirt & low-cut black vest for the women. Standing with his back to the front doors is a man with handsomely-groomed brown hair tied into a long braid and well-oiled studded leather armour, his hands folded behind his back. He turns as the doors open, revealing a pale face that seems to be set into a smirk. His beard is tightly trimmed to his jawline, and his goatee & moustache are trimmed to match. His smirk widens as he sees who's entering his establishment. "Welcome, welcome! The Silverdisk Hall's doors are always open, especially to the daring men--" He glances at Celen. "--and fine young women--" He throws a glance in Sia's direction. "--who've been commissioned to breathe life back into the Torch." "So... Celen? How's your wife been doing?" He flashes a little smile, his white teeth shining in the light.
Garmen is about to reply to Jasper's taunting when Kadosh interrupts him. "Oh, that thing? No idea. It's a little something I'm holding onto for an... interested buyer." The man starts pacing, not taking his eyes off Jasper and the snow leopard at his side. The leopard's nostrils flare and her tail starts *swishing* back and forth as she eyes him in turn. "As for YOU..." He points his rapier at Jasper. "...you know what? You got a point there. No sense in getting the guards involved in this... yet. Ladies and gentlemen--"
Whatever he was about to say gets cut off by a sling stone flying out of the darkness and cracking across his head! "--OW! What the--?!" He whirls on his heel to see...
Garmen chuckles. It's not a pleasant sound. "Oh, if you want more rope with which to hang yourselves, don't stop on my account. I'm sure you'll think of something." "See, I haven't broken any laws here. This here's my warehouse, and from the looks of things... let's see how many crimes the guard would charge you with..." He looks past Garmen, at the absolute mess of the warehouse's work floor. "...breaking & entering, destruction of property, multiple counts of assault..." His expression darkens considerably when he sees the dead guard inside. "...murder. And now theft, from the shape of things. Enough to put the lot of you away for a long time, I bet."
As the party starts making preparations to leave, a familiar voice speaks from the darkness outside. "Now, what's all this, then?" Stepping out of the shadows at the head of a gang of Ropefists is the proprietor of the Silverdisk Hall, his rapier unsheathed and tapping against his foot as he walks up with a mix of a smirk and a sneer on his face. "Imagine my surprise when two of my bouncers came and told me some folks were still wandering the streets at night. What could they be after, I wondered?" "And now I see why. What should we do with you...?"
Triax: Garmen's face proves to be as unreadable as ever, save for his anger. "Get. Out."
Dejah's Perception Roll:
The patrons seem to be quite engrossed in the games or their drinks. However, you also notice some of the bouncers giving Kadosh dubious looks. They seem to be considering approaching him for some reason... Kadosh:
Your wagering at the dice table has proven fruitful--you're up by at least twelve silverdisks. Triax: Garmen's face turns impassive as you speak, his brow furrowing. He leans back in his chair and glares at you. "I don't like what you're implying, sir. Furthermore, it's become clear to me that I have no need of any services you have to offer." He nods at the office door. "The door's over there. You can show yourself out."
Triax: Garmen leads you up the stairs and past a room that's as big as the gambling floor below. The south wall is lined with several glowing machines with reels, several of which have patrons seated in front of them. Some of them feed silverdisks into slots on the machine's faces and watch them as their reels spin wildly before stopping.
He opens an expertly-carved door embossed with an image of a very large silverdisk and steps inside. The room beyond is a well-decorated office with green carpeting and red-painted walls. A great portrait depicting a battle between a large, scorpion-like monster and a tribe of Kellid warriors takes up a good portion of the room's back wall. A simple oaken desk sits before the portrait, with a lavish-looking chair carved in the shape of a throne behind it. Garmen takes a seat behind the desk and bids you to sit in a chair in front of it. "Now, about that job you're inquiring about." The man's face turns serious. "What, pray tell, do you have to offer me that I don't already have? A strong sword-arm isn't that hard to come by around here--I've got at least a dozen of them manning this establishment alone. What makes YOU so special, hmm?" He leans back in his throne-chair and crosses his leg, arching an eyebrow at you.
Garmen's expression doesn't change. "I have no doubt you would--as well as a bunch of other people. But here's the thing--see, I value... subtlety in an employee." He nods at the stairs and starts walking over to them. "You want to continue this conversation? Step up to my office."
"--would probably be what, now?" Garmen appears next to Triax, seemingly out of nowhere. The bouncers immediately turn pale. "Uh--nothing, nothing boss. Really." The bouncer points a shaking finger at Triax. "This fella said he was lookin' for work." "And that he'd like to speak with me about it, yes." Garmen turns to the android with an arched eyebrow. "So, you look like the sort of man who's most at home with a sword in his hand. I doubt you'd fit in well with my bouncers--they're paid to rough up deadbeats and keep undesirables out of my establishment, not kill them."
Garmen nods. "Definitely. Although depending on how lucky you lot are, you could end up repaying me either way." "And so long as you DO give it a try at some point, I won't mind much if you watch. That's what the bar's for."
GM Rolls?:
Garmen chuckles as Tabitha & Dejah introduce themselves. "So well-mannered, too. Quite a refreshing change of pace from some of the other customers here. So, what'll your pleasure be for this evening, then? A game of cards? Perhaps a throw of the dice? Or mayhap even the machines on the second floor?" He waves a hand at a set of pine-carved stairs leading up to the building's second story. "As to where you can redeem the vouchers, yes." He turns to Kadosh and hitches a thumb over at the lady in the exchange office. "Just hand 'em off to Tamarie over there and she'll take care of the rest." Dejah's Sense Motive Roll:
Though Tabitha might (and, frankly, probably did) have missed it, you didn't: Garmen's eyes are sizing the party up for some reason.
Well, in between ogling you and Tabitha, that is. GM Rolls:
Jasper's Perception Roll: The casino floor is crowded with people from all walks of life. Locals, foreigners, scavengers & merchants alike are trying their luck at the games...
...while a pickpocket tries his luck at working the crowd. You almost missed him, but a second look at the roulette table tells you all you need to know. A dark-haired young ruffian in leathers just seized an opportunity to relieve an ill-tempered gnome of his coin purse when he got into a heated argument with the dealer manning the roulette wheel.
The interior of the Silverdisk Hall is considerably better-furnished than the exterior--in stark contrast to the building's facade, the walls here are wrought from fine maple, without even the smallest of stains. The torches on the walls provide much needed illumination for the patrons on the carpeted casino floor. A set of steps lead down to the casino's gambling floor, and several tables are visible in the torchlight. Most of them are crowded--one table bearing a roulette wheel being a particularly popular attraction, if the dozen patrons gathered around it are any indication. Other tables have card dealers and dice rollers, ready to take on the newest high-rollers and cardsharps. An expansive bar takes up almost the entire back wall of the casino's main gambling floor, with several tables scattered around the floor's perimeter. The two pug-nosed dwarves behind the bar are busily taking orders and serving drinks to the thirsty patrons this evening. The right side of the casino appears to be where the patrons go to exchange their gold pieces for silverdisks. A blonde, half-elven woman in a low-cut top sits at a desk behind a mesh wall, taking gold pieces offered by a customer through a slot just above her desk. She ducks behind her desk and returns with several silverdisks, sliding them through the slot and into the customer's waiting hands. Standing with his back to the entranceway is a man dressed in well-oiled studded leathers and bearing an ornate-looking sword at his side, his brown hair neatly combed and cut short. He turns as the doors open and a smile breaks out on his face. "Ah--welcome to the Silverdisk Hall, ladies and gents." He spreads his arms wide, his brown eyes twinkling. He then puts one hand on his goateed chin and arches an eyebrow. "Allow me to thank you for accepting my invitation. I am Garmen Ulreth, owner of this fine establishment."
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