Phelerosa considers for a moment and then produces a long scroll wrapped around a wooden dowel from a trunk at the foot of her bed.
"Perhaps this could help then. You can make a copy if you like."
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Aiden (and any party hangers-on): "'Paracountess?' Which paracountess? Do you mean Zarta Dralneen?" Phelerosa's angry pout lightens. "Well, I keep a record of someone’s exceptionally poor decision-making as leverage in case I ever find myself in trouble, and as a reminder about the folly of entering Infernal contracts. The devil always wins in the end, especially when the mortal is drunk."
Aiden quickly moves to intercept the young woman. "Phelerosa? I need to speak to you." He moves her to a quiet area of the bar. She has a tiny room she leads him to. Aiden (and any party hangers-on): "Who in the Nine Hells cares what my family thinks? I'm done with them and all the other damned nobles. I've found a home here in Pezzack away from all the backstabbing and manipulation. 'Certain interests' indeed!"
"I'm knocking off for the night, Auntie." Says a young woman. She tosses her apron at the halfling bar owner who deftly catches it and tosses up on a hook. |