Ms. Crimson's page

Vincent does get the goods he is looking for. His tentacled friend will be quite pleased, too.
Ms. Crimson quietly goes about her duties, leaving her quarters a little late with a vial of some kind. It bubbles, and she leaves it in an unmarked box next to the door before turning to greet a guest making his way down to the bar counter.
She is given a wide berth as she chants at the box in question.
"Vincent, it smells like you have already started for the day with a full stock. I am grateful to you, and I would like it if you could tabulate the expenses to be reimbursed."

@Vincent, earlier:
"If you are able to get the kitchen back up to speed with some sort of meat dish, that should suffice." With a conspiratorial look to the left, she also mentions something about sweet dumplings, her face's redness indicating that this is a personal request.

Ms. Crimson is not made entirely of stone. She reflects some of Davi's happiness at being able to help. It is simply muted by whatever it is that managed to tire the innkeeper out.
She waves a hand out dismissively before she hears anything about Davi giving up wages.
"I am not too worried about paying to keep them here for a couple of months, if that is what it takes. We have other ways of making a living here, as you well know, Davi. And I don't have any doubts about your judgement of character... Just be sure they know to keep out of the sub-basement, yes? For everyone's sake."

She thinks for a moment before saying the number twelve.
"The Hawthornes can stay in room twelve, certainly. Between the two queen beds and the fact their linen cupboard is overstocked, that should do."

The woman covers the looking glass in her hands with the end of her shirt, stashing it in an upper drawer of her darkwood dresser.
"If Guln truly wishes to work for a wage, I can employ him temporarily to work on all the common room tables and chairs. That ought to keep his coffers full for a month, at least, at the going rate here."

There is the subtext here that the staff at the Hookscratch make a killing, and this is a well-guarded secret. Aside from whatever is in the basement, that is probably the primary reason that Ms. Crimson didn't want every family from the disaster under her roof. It would drive prices up in the area considerably.

"I jest not about the sub-basement, though. It is dangerous and young children are especially fond of trying to break in. You know this. If I am to ask anything of you, specifically, it is that you find them something to occupy their idle time."

When Cyrielle comes in and just as abruptly leaves, Ms. Crimson averts her eyes from the kitsune.
"Before you go back to see her, you should know I marked her today. She came back bloodied, and so it seemed like a decent way to ensure her safety. It leaves a bad taste in my mouth, nonetheless. I will not pry into her double-life, but she trusts you... See that she hears a sensible opinion on whatever it is she's up to, please."

# Evening

@Jezalane, before:
"An order of fish, greens, and bread coming up, then... As for the top floor, it's been converted to a common room, but there's a room with a decent view on the second."

She thinks for a moment on the other offer, tapping a finger on her palm as if keeping track of something in her head.
"You are welcome to stay as a back-up performer... perhaps as an accompanist, if you can convince Hallidan. If you intend to do that, though, you'll need to stay on for a couple of weeks in a probationary sense, and I'll need you to sign a contract at the end of that time."

Leaving the bard to think on it, Ms. Crimson returns with food.

@Cyrielle:
"You misunderstand, Cyrielle. I am not judging you for missing work for a day. I'm chastising you for possibly missing work for the rest of a nonexistent life, snuffed out in an instant because you were too afraid to ask for help."

She pulls out a hand to stop the barmaid from advancing.
"I will not interfere in your life, but I will take precautions as long as you are in my employ...,"

She presses her palm into the kitsune's shoulder, and the girl feels a little tickling sensation.
DC 24 Will save is a little high, but that's what Cyri has to get to avoid being marked with a blue hook on the shoulder. It's a Scar, per the hex, but it doesn't hurt you. It will, however, allow the innkeeper to know if you die on one of your adventures.

Ms. Crimson furrows her brow at Hallidan's closed note. She closes her eyes and considers something during a brief lull, opening them only at Aebin's loud exclamation.
Her cat, for once, is not in Cyrielle's proximity, choosing instead to see to Jezalane. This means she must investigate for herself.
Thus, she approaches Aebin and the young kitsune, moving to intercept the latter as she tries to return to her room.

She looks down at her youngest employee with a stern expression that conveys she isn't to continue on her way just yet.

"You cannot return in this state and expect to escape me so easily. It is enough, my dear, that Master Hallidan is always coming back from his double-life bloodied. If you have the option to ask for help, make askance."

She prods the barmaid's forehead.
Healing Hex:1d8 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7

Ms. Crimson is all over the place, as her wait staff is out during today's lunch rush. Thankfully, she is able to net a non-paying employee into temping with Aebin's help, but it is still a chaotic day.

Jezalane will have to be assertive if she wishes to get the attention of the innkeeper right away, but the bouncer clearly sees her. Just not as a threat. Especially when compared to the lunch patron who just came in with a bastard sword taller than she, and an overcoat that reads "Sundering Spines since AR 4172".

Assuming she assumes the position of a customer, the orange-haired innkeeper with impeccable posture approaches her with a stein of the ale on-tap and looks a her expectantly.

"Today we have a squash-based roast and grilled fish available. The meal is 2 silver pieces if you just want the food and to be on your way. A gold piece will give you unlimited portions and as many ales as you wish. Additionally, that gives you access to the live entertainment booked tonight."
She furrows her brow for a moment. "Though that last bit, I'll admit, is up in the air until our resident bard makes it in here safely."

Ms. Crimson brings a thoughtful finger to her chin, studying Davi intently.
"We have... enough troubles with theft from the desperate, but I see the need. Twould be amiss not to offer a couple of rooms, but we couldn't lodge them all. If you could find perhaps one or two families, I could oblige."
Hoping that her older barmaid would be pleased with this, the innkeeper then turns her attention to the younger ward of the inn.

Over the next twenty minutes, Cyrielle receives a broad overview of how the act works, the risks involved, and how the young kitsune should never feel pressured to do it, as not all adults even engaged, and even then, there are only a few ways to prevent anyone from reaping the procreational consequences.

With that, morning comes yet again.

Money earned for the bard." 1d6 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4 gold, 50 xp.

The bard gets a standing ovation, as he averages three days a week. He manages to net quite a bit of profit for the inn in other ways, too, and the gloved hands in the kitchen indicate that someone needs to replenish a couple of key stock items, soon.

The sober patrons start to filter out or move up to their rooms, but Ms. Crimson leaves Aebin in charge while she pulls Davi and Cyrielle aside.

"Davi, you first."

"Well, as pleasant as this has been, you still seem to be in fine spirits, Hallidan. It will be a pleasure to you see you perform, as you seem to be alright."

The innkeeper motions to the stage. Which is just as well, as the patrons are in full-force now, and as usual, the house is full.

"No. Whether or not you still do those things, you know whether or not you should be doing them. This is more of an explanation of a common biological practice that may or may not be the primary motivation of many a humanoid behavior."

She stops herself, realizing her speech patterns may be a little too academic.

"You have a choice, Miss Cyrielle. You can read about it from a book, or I can explain it to you tonight after I speak with Davi."

Okay, I didn't tell anyone because it would interfere with much at the time, but Ms. Crimson and co. gave her her "coming of age" present, which is usually given to halfling kids like a Bar mitzvah. So using that might not be the best terminology. >.> I should have brought it up with you guys, first.
Ms. Crimson sighs.
"I gave her the gift already, though... she is old enough to know about that now. There's no more shielding it."

The innkeeper serves another table, somehow always within earshot. "And I think she's better off knowing, what with all the... erm... gentlefolk in this world. So, Davi and Hall, what with her officially having come-of-age today, she'll be getting the talk."

"Well, youngun-"
Before an inebriated patron can more than utter two words, having listened in to their conversation, the woman smacks him on the head like a nun with a ruler.
"That won't be necessary, Bertram."

"Ah, and here I was thinking you needed the night off." the innkeeper smiles and makes her way over to Hallidan's barstool to lightly jab the side of his head with two fingers. "But if you're able to make remarks like that, it seems I was mistaken."

Healing hex, if you need it: 1d8 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8

"I presume we should have seen the "other guy"?"

She pours a refill for a patron nearby.
"-and Davi, I am willing to listen to your request, but if you desire privacy, it will have to wait until after the face shows eleven."

"But she has come of age enough to earn the token, so she's close. Old enough to survive, at any rate."
Ms. Crimson smiles before looking to Davi. It is early evening now, and patrons filter in for the more mainstream activities. She does spare Hallidan a questioning look, though, not unlike that of a concerned schoolmaster.

"Are you still well enough to play?"

"One gold piece, as it comes with refills on food, drink, and admission to a concert, of sorts. As for your friends, I don't care what they look like as long as they stay out of trouble and leave their tussles outside. A room, which is a separate charge, is another gold piece. It comes with two beds and clean sheets."

She purses her lips.
[b]"I would advise you sit away from the hearth."

Ms Crimson smiles back at Cyrielle when she sees her, then hurries along to serve more customers.

No, no, well, I suppose yes, but then again, no. You see, sweet Jackie, that hasn't happened yet. We are four years BR, in this particular scenario

The innkeeper approaches the newcomers quickly, already carrying a flagon of some sort.

"May we help you?"

Ms. Crimson and her guest shake their heads at the interruption. The former takes a moment to sputter and regain her bearing.
"Searching for a what? Oh. Yes."

She gives her contact one last, long look, and Ebenezer makes his way into the employee's quarters, rolling up the sleeves on his scholarly robes.

Meanwhile, the innkeeper regards the kobold guests intently, despite the patrons now milling back and forth. She passes him several times through her time aiding with the delivery of orders, sharing a couple of glances with Hallowid.

We are looking at this being almost lunchtime, now, though Flextime is always possible with the @earlier @now framework.
Note to everyone else: Cyrielle just appeared out of nowhere with a more studious gnomely type.

Ms. Crimson quirks an eyebrow, and then looks at the mechanical time-piece near one of the windows. That was perhaps the quickest jaunt she'd ever witnessed on the part of Cyrielle. Usually she'd come back late and carrying things that probably didn't belong to her.

"Well done, my dear. A job done as quickly as this merits a reward...,"
And, perhaps, a coming-of-age present she might have never received. It is halfling tradition, after all. If we don't do this, who will?

The professor and the innkeeper just stare at one another eerily, with small tells on their face indicating some sort of communication with a DC 10 Sense Motive check.

This goes on for a full three minutes.

Ms. Crimson holds out a hand tersely, and then draws it back.
"She never did get that name, did she?" The innkeeper shrugs heavily. "That little girl is giving me gray hair." she says quite seriously, though even a single strand of-non orange hair can be seen on her head.

"It goes without saying that sometimes, I am tempted to assign you boon companions, with which you must always linger, and whose well-being you are responsible for. I think there is already a term for that, but the syllables always evade me."

She puts on a dignified smile. "Ah, yes. A botty system."

Anyone may dot in OOC terms."I could cover for you, if you're willing to make the trek, little one, but not without his name pinned to your frock. Twouldn't do to send you through the largest metropolis in the world without a clear destination."

Ms. Crimson brushes her chin in thought, then gives a knowing glance to Aebin.
"Well, maybe that once, what with the man who wore the live homunculus on his head in the shape of a pointed nose? I wonder what happened to him whilst we ran from the orb-shaped Menace of Truul..."

She waves her hand. "Neither here nor there. HAL!" she barks. "The theme of tonight's performance is "flame"! I trust you won't disappoint. Or immediately find a new one."
Her pointing finger lands on Davi.
"Miss Davi, the potpourri to use today is lavender. You will find it stocked in the proper cabinet."

Ms. Crimson emerges from the employee's quarters almost immediately after Davi. This time she looks like she should; her orange hair is tied up in a flamboyant scarf, and tanned skin breeches cover her legs until they are swallowed by well-loved, shining boots with an emblazoned swan motif.

"A notice to all of our dear employees. There is a reason that the bathing chamber is blockaded. You are NOT to move the blockade until such time as someone fetches Professor Ebenezer Vaghn from the Arcanamirium across town."

She smiles serenely. "In the meantime, feel free to ask for the pittance required to frequent a better bathing facility."

She regards Davi for a moment and makes a "tsk"ing sound at Hallowid.

With that, she moves into the employee quarters again.

"There's no more with my never." the woman responds to the talking bird. "I don't think you could handle the way your feathers would ruffle. Not a bird like you, anyway."Not with the intention to ruin an intimate an epic moment, Ms. Crimson slams a pot of coffee on the bar and looks to her barmaid.

"Cyreille, would you be a dear? I have pants to attend to..."

Ms. Crimson bows to the newcomer and leaves the prankster to her bouncer, though she is clearly upset with the gap in her security that allowed for detonating ducks to infiltrate her establishment.

She wanders over to the bar counter, avoiding her cat, now so busy staring at the raven nursing a mug that the enigmatic cook must have procured at some point.

"You may take a seat. As you can see, your punctuality has done you much good... My friend, you can have any seat in the house."

It's actually hard to tell if she notices the dishevelled state she's in, what with the lack of proper britches and shoes.

She eyes the raven that keeps getting into the place. Technically, it isn't squatting, and it amused the clientele, but she gives him a look.

"The next batch should be ready in a minute. Come now. Enjoy the show."

She nods.

Ms. Crimson quirks an eyebrow and gives Aebin a sidelong glance.
"Foul indeed."
She crosses her arms and taps her left foot impatiently.
"Sir, if you are here to solicit, you need to get permission first, brilliant though this prank might be."

Ms. Crimson emerges from the door suddenly hastily-dressed in a baggy, long-sleeved bright red affair with her normally-tied-back hair dripping wet, carrying a live mallard duck under her arm. She lacks her usual boots, and only her lengthly shirt makes up for an obvious lack of pants. While she still stands perfectly erect, it is hard to look respectable under the circumstances.

She has a half-smile on her lips as it merrily quacks a sailor's shanty in whatever language ducks utilize.

"Twould seem someone misplaced their bathroom-invasion-duck," She drops it unceremoniously on the floor. "There is something to be said about waterfowl materializing out of a spigot, but I am not sure it is reserved for polite company."

Ms. Crimson and Hallowid, the sleek black cat that is currently sleeping on the bar in the next room, wake up simultaneously, green eyes sparkling in the pre-dawn light.
The woman pulls herself out of red silken sheets from the master bedroom of the employee wing and uncovers a heatlessly burning candle to tiptoe through the corridor connecting her room to those of the others towards the small chamber at the end, wherein there lies a tub that pumps water directly from their private well.
It is not naturally heated, however, and this, more than anything else, puts the spring in the proprietress's steps.

Hallowid, meanwhile, stretches her legs and begins to pace up and down the counterspace, staring to make sure nothing is out of place.

Ms. Crimson is a retired adventurer and a powerful witch (probably). She only seems to be about 30, but she talks like an old woman and always seems to have some sort of story to lend a willing ear. Despite, or perhaps because of that tendency, she's used some of her ridiculous player character wealth to purchase and maintain an inn, turning her employeers into a kind of surrogate family.
Her voice is remniscent of a school teacher, and she's a shorter woman with really good posture. Like her name suggests, she always has some brightly-colored red garment at her disposal.
She has a sleek tabby cat named Hallowid that stalks the youngest staff members frequently.

...
And forbids ANYONE from ever entering the sub-basement.

As for the inn, I started describing it in the gameplay thread. I am going to add an adjoining stable, though.

Ms. Crimson wrote:

'Cept it's a female bartender.

You busy after work? ;)

Ba-dun-dun-chik.

'Cept it's a female bartender.