Braddon delivers Lexy to the front door of her building. "Well, bye, Braddon," she smiles, fishing her key out of her pocket. "You know where to find me."
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She shrugs. "It's a nice place. A little boring. Lots of farms."
"Roderic's Cove? No," she shakes her head emphatically. "That's just a pirate's cove. Anya and I, we come from down near Ember Lake, a town called Nybor. I don't expect you've heard of it."
Phil gives Lexy a genuine smile and wave, offering a "Happy whoring." with no trace of sarcsam. "Thanks!" Lexy answers cheerily, exiting the building with Braddon.
"Uh ... thanks, but no," Lexy replies. "I have to change clothes and get to work on time."
The breakfast party is interrupted by the appearance of Braddon and Lexy from the hall of the residential wing. "Oh, good morning," the woman greets the others cheerfully. "Don't let me disturb you; I'm just on my way home."
Braddon: "Do you want me to walk you home?" "You don't have to," she assures him, slipping on her shoes. "No one in Leeward is going to harm one of Shorafa's girls."
Braddon: Lexy yawns and leaps out of your bed with dismaying alacrity. "Sorry, Braddon, but I've got to hurry. I have to go home and change before work. Thanks for a lovely evening, though. It was so much better than just sitting around the flat."
Lexy cheers and claps her hands as Braddon's airtight logic is vindicated. "I'll bet that'll buy another bottle of bubbly wine," she remarks of the pile of chips he collects. "And then maybe back to your place...?" she suggests.
"Oh, this is a Tien game." She points to the square with numbered sides marked in the center of the table. "You bet on one, two, three, or four; then the dealer lifts up the bowl and removes the beads, four at a time. However many are left for the last batch, that's the number that wins."
"I don't hate boats. You're just cramped into a tiny place, which would be more fun with the right person. And if you step outside, the ground is the wrong colour and moves too much." "Braddon, you're so funny!" she laughs.
"Hmmm," she giggles thoughtfully. "Maybe go some of those places from the restaurant. Magnimar and Korvosa and Kaer Maga. Kalsgard. Even Absalom.""Yeah. That'd be great. I like travel. Just as long as there's not too much sea travel." She laughs. "You can't get to Absalom without traveling by sea, can you? Isn't it on an island?"
"Hmmm," she giggles thoughtfully. "Maybe go some of those places from the restaurant. Magnimar and Korvosa and Kaer Maga. Kalsgard. Even Absalom."
"Next?" "I don't know. More wine?" she suggests. "Or would you rather try to win some money?"
"Wow, people spread some dumb rumours. What do they say about me?" "I haven't heard anyone say anything about you at all," Lexy replies absently. "You shouldn't feel bad about it," she hastens to add. "People don't usually talk about people who aren't important. I mean...," she winces and screws up her face as she attempts to rephrase her answer in a more flattering way. "Look at us girls at the House. Everyone knows Lil and whispers about her because she got a man killed. I don't think anyone gossips about the rest of us at all, and I'm glad. People only talk about people who are ... notorious for one reason or another," she decides. "If I found out people were talking about me, I'd be nervous. You're a lot better off not attracting that much attention in Riddleport."
Lexy blushes a little as Tendal kisses her hand. "We call him Fancypants." "Oh, I don't know how you dare," she whispers back. "They say he killed so many men in Magnimar he had to get out of town and start over again in Riddleport. It's because of him that Old Stumpy ... Saul, I mean, had so little trouble with his Gold Goblin; people didn't want to tangle with 'Magnimar' Deverin. Then his new capp leaves town, and Saul closes up shop.... Sorry, you said that wasn't true. But people said it was: that Old Stumpy was scared without his big city capp and cashed out and left town while the getting was good."
Lexy seems a little in awe of Tendal. "Oh, um, Mr. Deverin," she fumbles her wineglass from one hand to the other, unsure whether to offer a handclasp or a curtsey, and doing a little of both. "Pleased to meet you."
"Bounder?" Lexy asks. "Yeah, that's pretty fun. Ghoulette's the best, though. Dungo is so funny! Golem's too hard; I never remember which hands are worth more than others and bet all wrong."
Braddon: "So, where to next? Lose money? Get drunk? Your place or mine?" "Some of all three ... four?" Lexy seems to have lost count but is game for any and all of the above.
Braddon: "Where can you get decent furs in Riddleport?" asks Braddon casually. "Don't know," Lexy shrugs. "Nowhere in Leeward District, that's for sure. Probaby up in Windward where the rich folk live." "Have you actually been to this place before?" "No," she giggles. "Isn't it exotic? I can't believe I'm eating a meal all the way from the southern continent!"
Braddon:
Lexy giggles. "Is that what redheads are known for where you're from? Around here, they say we have a bad temper and are prone to impulsive behavior." She shakes her head. "Firepelts are too common to be valuable. No woman who had a choice would be caught dead in firepelt fur. They say that Desiree Krump has a stole made of ermine that was ordered direct from Kalsgard. I'd love to have something like that for the winter." She sighs enviously for a moment before becoming more practical. "Of course, even talking about furs in the summer is making me feel overheated."
The food and wine are delivered to the table, diverting both of your attention momentarily. Perception DC 20: While the meals is tasty and well-prepared, you can discern no difference between the tenderloin of auroch and commonplace beef, while Lexy's Mwangi dish, which she insists you try, tastes like ordinary, if heavily-seasoned, mutton.
Braddon: "Oh," she seems surprised that you don't know, "they're a wild cat with red stripes that are all over the countryside around here. They're not usually dangerous to people, if they're not traveling alone, but farmers hate them for killing their sheep and chickens. Do you not have them where you're from?"
Lexy orders Garundi mutton.
Braddon: "I think you're clever. Cleverer than me, anyway. I've never even heard of Mendevia or places with potions of immortality or places that keep out the gods. I've never been anywhere, except home and here. And the road in between. But nothing interesting lives there but cows and firepelts. And goblins, I guess. It must have been nice having a dad who could tell you stories like that. My dad never told me anything except to keep out of trouble and don't leave the sheep pen open."
Braddon: "I'm not even sure I can read all these things," Lexy laughs, perusing the menu. "Where's ... 'Mendevia?'"
Each of the dishes on offer attests an exotic origin, from blackened tenderloin of auroch from the Storval Plateau, to reindeer meatballs as served in the halls of the Linnorm Kings, to Galtan goose-liver paste on toast. The decorations on the walls hail, one presumes, from similarly various provenances. If nothing else, they provoke conversation while the diners wait for their meals to be prepared.
Braddon: "N-n-n-o-o?" Lexy ponders as she takes her seat. "Not anything to speak of. Rosamond is out of Shorafa's doghouse for now, which doesn't make Anya happy. And there's been no word of Lil." She shoots you a worried look, hoping you don't have anything to add on the subject. "But not a lot happens in Riddleport, not that I hear about, at least. I presume all the bosses have their business going on, but us ordinary people don't worry about that."
Braddon: "Hey, do the two of you ever work together? I mean, could we...? Well, are we...? I mean, you and I... umm... Would you...? ahhh... yeah." "Of course," Lexy replies with mild surprise. "I mean, it costs extra. And it would have to be at the temple. Anya's not in the habit of giving out freebies; she's very career-driven. But, sure, we work together sometimes. What are you in the mood for?" she changes the subject bewilderingly. "The Lone Hippocampus is known for its seafood," she points to a café not far from the ferry with tables scattered outside on the pavement, a sea-green creature like an aquatic horse depicted on its placard, "or there's the Cabin Boy up that way toward the Dragon's Hoard," she points northward toward the more crowded heart of the district. "They serve foreign food."
Braddon: "Oh, I wouldn't kill you," Lexy assures you, wide-eyed with sincerity. "I wouldn't kill anyone for a job. Anya might."
The two of you traverse the largely-deserted streets of Leeward District. At this time of night, there is no wait for the ferry, and you quickly cross the waters of the Velashu and find yourselves standing on the busy, lamp-lit cobblestones of Free-Coin.
Braddon: "Anywhere we won't get ganked by our bosses' enemies?" Lexy takes your question at face value. "Oh, Free Coin is supposed to be a neutral zone," she assures you, picking up a light wrap to throw around her shoulders. "Everyone leaves their differences on the other side of the Velashu, and there's a bunch of Gendarmes there to make sure they do it. Of course, that's where Orik Vankaskerkin knifed Falk Zincher, so I guess it doesn't always work out that way. But Free Coin is probably the safest place in Riddleport, except for the temple, and maybe the Publican House." She carefully locks the door behind her and takes your arm for the walk to the ferry dock.
Braddon: "Want to get something to eat?" "Sure," she agrees readily, "but we'll have to go to Free-Coin for it. This side of the Velashu's closed for the night."
Braddon: "Spying? No!" Lexy replies. "It's just ... I heard the Gold Goblin had closed. I thought that's why you had gone."
Braddon: "Why would I be working for someone else?" "I heard that -- oh, but never mind. You know how people talk. Probably just a wild rumor."
Braddon: "Come in," she nudges the door open with her shoulder, her hands and eyes taken up with the gift. "Where were you? What were you doing? Who are you working for now?"
Braddon: The door hesitates, stolidly unbelieving a moment, as one might imagine an eye placed to a crack around the jamb; then it opens eagerly.
"Braddon!" Lexy cries. "I thought you'd left town. I haven't seen you all week."
Despite Braddon's best efforts, both he and Lexy do find time for some hours of slumber. He's awakened in the gray pre-dawn by her toes gently nudging between his ribs. "Braddon!" she hisses. "It's morning. You'd better go. I have to get ready for work, and Anya will be home once the sun's up." She pauses, puzzled. "Were there pickles last night? Why am I thinking about pickles?"
"By the way, do you know anything about missing girls. We found some disturbing stuff in their lair." "None of our girls are missing," Lexy insists. "Except Lil. Shhh!" she looks around as if expecting someone to be eavesdropping. "We shouldn't talk about her. Especially not here."
Lexy lingers at the door. "Just because I'm drunk doesn't mean you can't come in," she invites.
"We can do whatever you want. We can go back to your place. We can go back to my place. We could even stick around here and lose more money. I'm yours." He winks. Lexy takes a sip of the wine. "We can't really make a night of it," she says with some regret. "I have to be at work again in the morning, and I need to get some sleep before then. Let's get out of this crowd and go walk around upstairs a bit; then you can take me home." The pair escape the crush around the Ghoulette table and make their way up one of the sets of stairs. The balcony edges three sides of the building and is less crowded than the main floor; it's equipped with dealers and tables for Golem, all of which are filled and rimmed with both spectators and would-be players waiting for a seat to open up. The clientele is notably more upscale than the sailors watching Ghoulette; Lexy politely greets a couple of clients who recognize her and sees a few more with wives or lady friends whom she studiedly fails to recognize ... and then whispers the truth to Braddon with a giggle afterwards. The Gendarme presence is more pronounced on the upper level as well, either because more coin is at stake at the high rollers' tables or because cheating is both more likely and more lucrative. Leaning over the railing, the pair get a bird's-eye view of the games on offer below that were hidden behind rows of gamblers wagering on both the throw of the dice and the turn of the card. After another half an hour or so, she somewhat reluctantly suggests it's time to head back to the ferry. A growing crowd is waiting at the dock, as more patrons of Free-Coin are now heading home than freshly arriving. "I had a wonderful time," she tells Braddon. "I can't think the last time I was on a date. I mean ... if this is a date. I feel like ... this one time back home, they had a fair and a boy threw a ball at milk cans until he knocked them over and won me a quilt and a gallon of pickles, and then he carried them home for me. Seems a shame you don't really win anything at a casino, doesn't it? I mean, just coin, which is nice, of course, but it just goes back in your pocket. You don't feel like you're walking home with something new, and you can't put it out where people can see it and breezily say, 'Oh, yes, a boy won that for me' all off-hand like you don't really care much." She considers a moment. "I think I'm a little drunk."
It takes Braddon some time to worm his way back into the crowd of Ghoulette spectators, especially with two glasses of expensive elven wine he doesn't want to spill. He finally manages to shove his way back to the spot Lexy has claimed up against the table, close enough to smell the pungent stench of undead flesh above the pungent stench of closely-packed sailors. "Is that for me?" she grins, taking one of the glasses. "Oh, bubbles! Fancy!" She takes a sip. "You want to do something else?" she asks, half-shouting to be heard over the clacking of the wheel and the hum of the crowd.
She giggles. "I think I've had enough to drink. I have to work in the morning. Let's go watch the Ghoulette for a while."
"Oh, the Watercress," she dismisses it with a tone of contempt. "That's the one no one goes to anymore." A small knot of patrons walking through the door as she is saying this does nothing to shake her conviction in public opinion. "Yes, that's the Hoard! The big gold one! It just looks like money, doesn't it?" she asks avariciously.
Braddon finds himself retracing once again what has become a very familiar length of road along the west bank of the Velashu between the Publican House and Free-Coin District. The alcohol has loosened Lexy's tongue, and she chatters on happily as they walk, free of the worries of what might be watching them from the dark alleys that affected her on the way to the tavern. "Everyone there was so awfully nice, and if just half of them that said they'd ask for me at the House actually do, it ought to be really good for my business. Of course, Anya's the one who's trying to impress Shorafa. If we moved into the House itself, it would save us rent, but really I kind of like having a life outside of work which you just can't when you live there, can you? But if Anya gets promoted to having her own room in the House, I'd have to get a new roommate because I couldn't afford the flat on my own. I don't know if I could live with one of the other girls; they tend to be kind of catty and competitive, you know. Anya's that way about the other girls, but she's all right with me because we've been friends since we were kids. Even then, she's kind of jealous about the hair thing. Why do men think red hair is so much sexier than brunette? It doesn't work that way with men: I mean, no one thinks one man is more attractive than another because he's a redhead." She looks at Braddon as if she expects a response.
"Oh, no, it's all very safe," she assures him. "Everything in Free-Coin is owned by the Overlord, and it's crawling with Gendarmes. Probably more so since 'the incident,'" she lowers her voice to a conspiratorial whisper as she refers to Falk Zincher's death. She finishes her last drink and sets the glass back on the bar with an air of finality. "I'm ready. Let's go."
"So what do you spend all your hard earned cash on?" "Rent. Food. Clothes. Lots of clothes," she giggles. Despite Arnando's ablutions, the alcohol has clearly gone to her head a little. "I still don't know this territory very well, so you'll have to guide me," Braddon suggests as he slides a hand over Lexy's hip. "Oh, I think you know your way around that.... Oh. You mean Riddleport, right? I haven't been to Free-Coin very often, but I know there are three casinos. One is kind of old and out of fashion, and one's really exclusive. It's hard to get in if you're not somebody, you know? The other one's the Dragon's Hoard where Liry Parmenter sets up her Ghoulette wheel. You remember her from Sunday night, right?"
"Are you going to make it to Free-Coin if you finish all those drinks?" Looking at the imbibables arrayed before her, "Probably not," she giggles. "Do you want to share?"
Braddon shoves his way back to Lexy's side, inciting grumbling protests from the men he's displacing. She grins up at him. "You could take me to Free-Coin like you promised. Only I don't guess I should leave until I've finished all these drinks people have bought me." She seems at least slightly tipsy already.
She catches sight of him, a half a head taller than most of the wall of suitors. "Braddon! Is that you?"
Lexy hesitates. "I guess I could stay here a while and wait for you to come back ... if you're sure you'll be back."
"Oh." She looks dismayed. "Um ... I guess so. I mean ... are you sure you'll be coming back? I don't know. If you're working against Shorafa, maybe I shouldn't be seeing you at all...."
Lexy looks at Braddon a little anxiously. "You really shouldn't get involved. Whatever it is Lil's done, it can't be worth getting on Shorafa's bad side."
He grins at Lexy. "Anya is totally safe from her. And it sounds like Anya may get promoted if there's those issues with Shorafa's other pet. Rosie was it? What happened there?" "I'm not exactly sure," Lexy responds. "Something about her giving information to someone on the outside about someone working at the temple? Shorafa's really careful about information getting out that could put any of us in danger, like someone finding out where we live and harassing us while we're not working, especially since ... you know." She tips her head toward the north and gives Braddon a significant glance, clearly referring to the Lil-Orik-Falk triangle and its fallout once again.
"In the kitchens.... Yes, I think I remember her. A red-headed half-elf? If she's looking for a job, she should go to Shorafa; Shorafa'd snap her up in a second." Lexy takes another sip of wine. "On second thought, don't tell her I said that. A red-headed half-elf? Anya'd be furious."
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