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Nistivo smiles indulgently at Lanel's question about his gloves. "Magical? I'd say that anything that repels the filth all around us must be magical, in a sense, wouldn't you?" He looks around the deck for a good location before unfolding a small camp chair from his pack and placing a silk pillow on top of it. He sits down with a contented sigh. "I do hope they'll have the tea service ready soon."
The clatter of hooves and carriage wheels can be heard coming down the docks. A few seconds later, a small but elegant and well-appointed carriage pulled by a pair of horses slows to a stop near the Grinning Pixie. A well-groomed man climbs down and tosses the reins to the buck-toothed sailor. "Take care--I want everything immaculate when I return." Speaking of immaculate, the man's clothing is so white it almost gleams, and the decorative trimming testifies to how expensive it must have been to purchase. His hands and forearms are covered by long white gloves, but he avoids touching anything as he strides up the gangplank. He nods politely to Venture-Captain Benarry and Lanel. "Nistivo Cirek, at your service. I trust this mission will be a profitable one."
Nistivo cradles the statuette he's been given like it's a sleeping baby, and he looks at it with almost parental affection. "Not bad," he murmurs to himself. "Not bad at all! Deducting for expended crossbow bolts, wand charges, incidentals, and general wear-and-tear on the carriage, this mission should still turn a tidy profit!" He hurries off to search for any other business opportunities in Highdelve before he and his allies must return to the nearest Lodge to report their success.
At the reminder that the amulet belongs to Aurelliax, Nistivo audibly sighs and . . . is that a pout? "Very well!" he says crossly. "But these Thassilonian artifacts are surely ours for the taking. They must be worth something on the open market, though one can only imagine the flood of such artifacts in recent years will have devalued their worth. Honestly, I do not know how anyone makes a living in this turgid economy."
"A ritual and an amulet, you say? Intriguing . . ." Nistivo's eyes glaze as he contemplates the great wealth that could accompany the discovery of a heretofore unknown magical item (combined with gratitude for saving a dragon's life). "Let's make sure this little troupe of troublemakers won't go anywhere, and see what's inside the cave."
Nistivo's eyes go wide as he hears the and sees the boy collapse with a massive wound to the chest. "Please put that newfangled contraption away!" he shouts to Elu. "There's no profit in dead townsfolk." "And as for you," he says, coming out from behind the rock and pointing at Richelle, "Your friend is badly hurt and your intransigence can only delay efforts to save his life. Surrender now and we'll take you back to Highdelve."
Nistivo rolls his eyes. "Children." He steps gingerly to the side to gain protection from a large boulder, careful not to brush against it and dirty his gleaming white clothes. This may hurt a bit, but it won't leave any permanent scars. A fine mahogany wand appears in Nistivo's hands, and a bolt of energy flies from it to strike one of the children!
"Yes, yes, of course," Nistivo tells the mayor in soothing tones. "We'll depart now. While we're gone, I suggest contemplating a suitable reward for the 'Highdelvian Heroes' or whatever appellation for us you prefer." Seeing as their destination is up an untracked slope, Nistivo regretfully leaves his carriage behind. He does outfit himself in a beautiful chain shirt, every link of which looks to have been individually polished until it gleams! Once that's done, he thrusts his arms through the straps of a backpack that is itself a work of art, with masterfully-done pyrographic images on the leather. And finally, he carefully loads a bolt into a crossbow with hand-carved designs on the stock. "Shall we?" he asks his allies.
"Exactly as my ally says, we may be able to assist with the town's problem with juvenile delinquency. In addition, we'll need to speak with Aurelliax about a separate matter of some urgency. And finally, I understand Highdelve has a robust economy but limited trading opportunities due to its remoteness. I may be able to assist in that matter." Nistivo speaks confidently, even if his self-assurance comes across as smug to many listeners.
Nistivo watches the festivities but keeps well away from the participants with their sticky fried-dough fingers, dirt-covered clothes, and unkempt hair. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, visibly attempting to stay calm despite all the chaos and impurity around him. The gilt statue of the dragon catches his eye, and that sounds much more promising. After all, both dragons and gold are symbols of wealth! He moves closer for a better look.
Nistivo wakes in his private room feeling refreshed, and after an extensive self-grooming session, makes his way out to the common room to see that the festival is in full swing. He tries to strike up some conversations with the less-disreputable-looking among the locals, but for some reason they don't seem interested in talking.
After Dreng finishes the briefing, picking up his silk pillow and folding chair, Nivek picks up his pillow and folding chair before making his way back outside to where his two-horse carriage is waiting on the street. Noticing a caravan forming up, he tosses a coin to a likely looking fellow and points to the horses' reins before ensconcing himself comfortably inside. "Share a room!" he responds to the innkeeper. "With these . . . erm . . . fellow field agents? I think not. Ask another guest to vacate the premises, and yes, I will compensate them for the inconvenience." Later, at the table in the common room, he waves away the proffered food. He opens a small meal hamper and produces fine meats, breads, and cheeses. He eats it all himself, without offering to share. "Now then," he says, patting his lips with the napkin, "in the morning we should visit this mayor. Very promising opportunity, I suspect. And we can inquire about the misbehaving children."
The man dressed in all-white finery stands up and gives a sweeping bow. "Nistivo Cirek, at your service. I see the Society has put on quite a production for us today! Dragons, giants, evil cults, and ancient relics! Well, I'm not overly familiar with Highdelve or shipping companies operating out of Port Ice, but I'm sure profitable business opportunities will be forthcoming. How far away is this town? I do hope the roads are serviceable enough for my carriage."
Just after Venture-Captain Dreng asks his question and pauses for an answer, the clatter of hooves and carriage wheels can be heard on the cobblestones outside. A few seconds later, the door to the meeting room opens and a handsome, well-groomed man enters. His clothing is so white it almost gleams, and the decorative trimming testifies to how expensive it must have been to purchase. His hands and forearms are covered by long white gloves and he's carrying a beautifully-carved wooden folding chair and a silk pillow. Tapping his chin, he thinks carefully about the best position to set up the chair before unfolding it. He places the pillow on it and then sits down. "You may proceed," he says. |
